Epitaph's Reality
by Crimson Taklian
Summary: AU The World is reality, not a game Upon a request from Mia, Kite has to travel to the citadel of the forlorn Ravenwing clan.
1. Bandit’s Son and Legendary Blademaster

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Bandit's Son and Legendary Blademaster

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The mid-September sky was painted dark orange and pink in the dying sunset, clouds of molten shades of red flickering across the ever-sinking yellow sun. But the beauty was never so pronounced as found in the Water City of Mac Anu, capital of Delta, where artistic grace was reflected in every canal of the massive town.

The denizens of the country's capital were winding down as they always did at sundown. Most shop owners had shut their business and private homes for the night. The rich and still-warm autumn zephyrs swung the welcoming sign for a local inn about, a sign bearing a carved bonfire and twisting letters spelling 'The Dark Flame'.

Inside, a few of the local travelers sat and talked in low voices, though the atmosphere was cheerful and pleasant. Within the fireplace by the large window burned magical embers on cherry wood that provided heat like summer sunshine and many of the patrons of the tavern were gathered around the fire, weary from the upcoming cold of winter.

The barmaid and owner of the Dark Flame, a pretty blonde woman draped in a cream-colored dress with a short skirt, sat atop the bar as she polished a glass and looked around at her small amount of customers. She pursed her red lips as she looked around and gave a bitter sigh, slamming her glass down hard and drumming her long nails against the sides of the glass.

"Business is so tight now a day," she grumbled furiously, her tongue of the native country, "A few more months of this and the Dark Flame will be out of business."

Though the words were spoken for only her ears to hear, a man in the corner laughed heartily. He had dark blonde-red hair that fell to his shoulders and across the tops of his eyes. His bare torso and half his face was hidden by dark green war paint, his navy armor catching the glint of the firelight. There was sword scabbard at his waist, the shimmering silver hilt set with a fat emerald. He was powerfully built with a firm, square jaw and broad shoulders, but the look his eyes held was not of a battle-hardened warrior.

"Aw, Alicia, the empire wouldn't close the Dark Flame, it's the only place the Descendents of Fianna actually like down here." His voice was firm and low, but had the hint of childish humor as he raised his mug. It was hard to place an exact county's accent on his voice.

Alicia shot the man a dark glare, her own blue eyes narrowed, but she couldn't stop the smile from stretching across her face. "Aye, but two people aren't enough to keep an inn going for long, my friend, and lately your arrogant partner hasn't been with you."

The man shrugged and stood up, gripping his half-empty mug. He walked over to the bar and pulled up a stool so he could stare Alicia in the eye. "He's had . . . business to be taken care of," he replied with a whisper, "The blasted empire's called him away far too much lately. They seem to want to keep him busy."

"So all that's keeping the Dark Flame afloat is your insane drinking habits, Orca, and I'm afraid even that isn't enough." Alicia sighed and ran her long fingers through her flowing hair, "Besides, doesn't Balmung only drink a single mug per sitting? It wouldn't matter anyway."

Orca shrugged carelessly, setting down his mug and gesturing to Alicia to refill it. "Don't fret long, a frown ill-suits a face as pretty as your own." She flushed crimson as she emptied her supply of brandy into his mug. Orca continued speaking. "I have good news for you though. A friend of mine is coming to town, should have been here a while ago. His folks just died, bless their souls, and he's got no family left to take him in. Real young too." He took a long sip of his brandy.

"How'd they die, illness?" "Yeah, plague's sweeping up in Lambda, fars I hear."

Alicia stiffened slightly, turning to refill another bar patron's glass of sherry. Her attitude was easily explainable, considering her past experiences with the members of the central country. A group of Lambdanian travelers had harassed her a few years back, leaving a rather ugly looking burn on the bar and a distinct prejudice in Alicia's mind. The barmaid's eyes flickered towards her father's ancient sword scabbard, propped up against the wall by empty glasses, before turning back to Orca.

"He got good money?" she asked a little too harshly.

"Fair amount," he responded with a nod and a smile, "You'll never guess who his father was though." He leaned his elbow on the bar, head in his hand and elbow on the bar. His smile stretched mockingly wide.

"Who, you?" she said with a smirk that matched his, her eyes glittering as he chocked on his brandy, face burning behind the paint. When he had finally stopped coughing, he glared at her extremely darkly with eyes narrowed to slits.

"He's almost my age Alicia!" He looked around nervously and spoke in a very low, curt voice, "No, his old man was the Crimson Raid himself." Her eyes widened, her jaw dropped and her already pale face went a pallid shade of grayish white. Licking her lips multiple times and struggling to form words, Alicia's voice was a strangled sort of whisper.

"You're . . . you're kidding! He's the son of Hyrakkidouran Raikoumaru!" Orca nodded, the smile back upon his face as Alicia went even paler, leaning down and picking up the bits of glass she had knocked over in her excitement. "When's he coming!" she demanded, excitement running through her crystalline gaze. Anybody with a father like _that _had to be rich.

"Just about . . ." Before he could finish his sentence, the door of the inn swung open, brining in a blast of unwanted wind. The mugs and bottles on the wall behind the bar rattled and the patrons of the tavern turned to look as the newcomer entered and shut the door with a snap.

A young man of about average height and scrawny build had entered Alicia's tavern and turned to look at Orca with a thin smile on his lips. He had spiky, aqua blue-green hair under his green and yellow hat, his clothing that of a simple traveler in colors that matched his hat in perfect shades. Red birth markings were on his cheeks, bearing the triangle insignia that every member of the Raikoumaru clan held. His eyes were bright blue and glittered brightly with youthful energy, twin daggers at his sides. He gave a small wave and moved towards the bar.

"Been a while, hasn't it?" he sounded out of breath, his voice smooth and calm with the crisp accent of Carmina Gadelica.

"Ah, Kite! Glad to see you made it here alright! Still haven't gotten rid of that hat, have you?" chuckled Orca, pulling it from the boy's head and examining it doubtfully, "You look better without it, doesn't he Alicia?" She merely smiled as way or a response.

Kite gave a small laugh and an equally small scowl, snatching back his hat with quick reflexes, jamming it back onto his head. He turned to the barmaid, turning red slightly and starring at her face with almost misty-eyes. She grinned lightly at his embarrassment and bowed her head so that locks of wavy hair fell around her chin.

"Orca tells me you're the son of Hyrakkidouran Raikoumaru," she breathed as if to taunt him, her eyes examining every feature of his face, "You look almost exactly like him."

Kite scarlet blush vanished as he pushed back the brim of his hat and fringe as well. "You knew my father?" he asked, trying to sound calm and simple, "Can I ask how, Miss. Alicia?"

She snorted, moving to the other side of the bar to tend to another customer and speaking somewhat loudly so Kite could still hear her. "I never said a word to him! I can only recognize him from, you know, _wanted posters._" She winked at Kite, which only caused him to sigh and take a seat next to Orca.

"What took you so long; you said you'd be here much earlier," asked the Blademaster, draining his mug and swallowing, "Did some lady catch your eye in a tavern?" Kite glared and gave a bit of a mirthless chuckle, tugging at the collar of the shirt beneath his belted vest and traveling cloak.

"Hardly, Orca, though that might explain why you've been late to several of our meetings. Had a run in with some stray Wyrms by the boarder last night," he said bitterly, "They're getting harder to avoid, have you noticed? Seems the so called 'imperial bounty-hunters' aren't hunting bounty and everyone knows the army won't do a damn thing."

"Well, you can't expect much from nobles," said Orca somberly and Alicia nodded in agreement, "But tell me, is there any news of Balmung up in Carmina Gadelica? I haven't heard from him in a while. Last I saw him, he was up north in Lia Fail having to deal with some of those Dark Asteroids everyone whines about."

"None that I've heard," said Kite, pausing for a moment. Hesitantly, he continued talking in a more quiet and quick voice. "But there are a few people wondering . . . whither or not Fianna's descendents are losing their touch." His last words were particularly rushed and he looked away quickly towards the fire.

Orca went red with anger and ground his teeth very tightly together, slamming his mug down so hard that a long crack ran up the side and split the mug neatly in two. "Who dares to say such a thing!" Alicia winced at the loud shout and dinners either gave the Blademaster shocked, scared looks or took their leave for the night with hurried footsteps towards the staircase that lead to the tavern rooms.

Kite fidgeted slightly and nervously continued speaking. "There are rumors afloat that your partner's become the lapdog for a certain nobleman. I presume you've heard of the Duke of Carmina Gadelica, Lios? The king's right hand man?"

Orca groaned and looked at his shattered mug, though he didn't seem to really see it. "Peasants muttering will never cease to annoy me to death," he barked to the pieces of glass, "Sorry about the glass Alicia."

"No . . . trouble Orca," she muttered, picking up the glass pieces and setting them under the bar, "I'll ask Odin to mend it. He's . . . good at this, sort of thing . . ." She seemed more concerned to keep his temper down then the actual mug.

Kite paused before continuing quieter, trying – like Alicia – to stop Orca's temper from getting any worse. The thought of a very angry Descendent of Fianna was nothing anybody really wanted, considering how destructive that could be.

"The people in a village not to far from here, by the Aqua Field, you know . . . they say that some of the kids who go towards the ancient ruins there . . . don't come back. There are barely any monsters around there and all the bandit's treasure's been whipped clean from it. No need for anything to stay up there, now is it?"

Orca nodded and stood, gripping the hilt of his sword with one gauntleted hand. His voice was still angry when he grumbled a response. "It's really sad when a legendary warrior as myself must purge an area of useless nonsense." He turned towards Alicia. "The second I get back, I'll pay for my meal and room, okay?"

Her eyes widened slightly and she shook her head rapidly. "You're going to the Aqua Field this late! Twilight Dragon slaughter me, your going to die of hypothermia in this wind."

He waved his hand casually through the air and chuckled darkly. "Bah, it's only a few hours walk to the field, less so on horseback. Kite, you come with me."

The young man coughed loudly and obviously, apparently trying to ignore what Orca said. When the taller (and much more menacing-looking warrior) leaned over him menacingly, Kite sighed and stood as well.

"Fine, you win, but if I die I swear that you'll have the Crimson Deaths after your head," he muttered darkly, hands balled in the pockets of his cloak, "And I mean it."

Orca chuckled darkly and pat Kite on the head like one might do to a dog or small child. "What fun, your father's weak little bandit tribe after me, the grand Lord Orca of the Azure Sea. I might crack a rib from laughing so hard."

Kite merely scowled darkly and narrowed his eyes as he followed Orca out of the Dark Flame, wishing that he'd just kept his mouth shut so he could have gotten to sleep early that evening.

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I do not own .hack, Bandai does. I own the gist of this story.

I want to apologize, to all the readers who had reviewed and enjoyed this story before I took it done. I really can't give any excuses as to why I've been so inactive with this, but I hope you'll forgive me. I really do.


	2. Unknown Encounter

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Unknown Encounter

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The ebony sky above was dotted with diamond stars and the centerpiece of the night – the full moon – cast light across the emerald fields of grass below. The air was moving slight and peacefully, the only noise around the sound of hooves beating against the soft earth. A chilly breeze blew over the two travelers and Kite's aquamarine eyes looked over the vast fields that surrounded Mac Anu for miles and miles.

Shifting in the saddle of his chestnut mare, he turned to look at Orca. It seemed that the Descendants of Fianna were immune to normal things, like sleep, which made Kite's eyes narrow in envy. The legendary warrior was sitting in a proud position on the back of his majestic white stallion, one hand clutching his sword, the other on his horse's reigns and his dark blue eyes were focused on the ever growing ruins in front of him.

The Aqua Field's name came from a now-dead tribe of nomads who had worshiped the ancient God of Water. They had once made their way on the vast, grassy plains of Delta and many of their shrines and underground turrets still lined the countryside and sparse mountain valleys. The ruins of the Aqua Field – which were cut underground and had been a home to thieves before and after the empire had come about – had once been a holy temple for those nomads.

In the early days of the imperial order, bounty hunters had eliminated the threat of bandit raids but as the monarchy changed from King Aperion to his nephew, Ito, it became a dictatorship. Numerous dukes had taken control over the five countries and only ending at the coastline of the Ghost Islands, where the island queen had slaughtered any incoming island. But the hatred of thieves and the well trained Imperial Army had spelled bad news from the remaining bandit tribes, one of which Kite's father had controlled.

As the entrance of the temple ruins drew close, Orca dismounted his horse and tied the reigns to one of the dead torches marking the door. Yawning widely, Kite followed suit with his mare. Orca drew his sword; the majestic blade cast a bright glow across the ground, illuminating the dark field and making Kite's own daggers look like nothing more then kitchen knives.

"Let's just get this over with," said Kite quickly, "It's freezing out here, and couldn't this have waited until morning?"

"Scared? Amazing, the _great _and _mighty _Crimson Raid's son is afraid of a little old bunch of monsters," said Orca with a sly, demented smile, causing Kite's face to go as red as his birthmarks.

"I'm not afraid! It feels like winter out here! Unlike some people," he said with a nasty look at his friend, "_I _get cold." Orca chuckled still and walked down the stone steps that led into the darkness of the temple. While his armor clanged on every step, Kite following soundlessly behind him. Both of the thief's daggers were clutched in his gloved hands, his eyes flickering into every corner of the each one square rooms that lined the temple's insides.

Odd markings were painted on the stone walls, which (Kite realized with a shudder) were painted on with human blood. Cobwebs hung from the ceilings, skeletons of both monster and human kin cluttered around the floors. It wasn't uncommon for one of Orca's metal boots to crush a bone with a nasty crack that split the sickly silence unpleasantly. A few rooms into the dungeon, a stone wall – carved with inscriptions in a dead language that Kite knew he'd never be able to understand – was revealed to be blocking their passage further on.

With a pleased, internal sigh that he dared not utter physically, Kite made to turn back and rush towards the wonderfully free and warmer field above but Orca simply brought his knee to his leg and kicked the door with his heel. Numerous cracks appeared upon the center of the impact and he dug his sword into one large one, heaving until the stone gave way and fell to dust on the ground. A strong smell of must and decay reached their nostrils, floating out from behind the now-freed rooms beyond.

"Twilight Dragon help us, it smells like a plague happened here," said Orca, coughing slightly and kicking aside lose bits of stone so he could walk further on. Kite frowned slightly but made no complaints as he followed the swordsman inside the dark room, rubbing the hilt of a dagger nervously.

It was deathly quiet inside, not that it had been any nosier before. Kite should have expected it; after all, these rooms haven't been used in decades. An idea hit him suddenly like a sack of bricks and Kite called out to Orca, his voice echoing in the emptiness as though dozens of Kites had spoken at once.

"If there was a stone wall back there, why would the lost people be in here?" he said cheerily, praying they'd leave because of this. The whole dungeon gave him an eerie feeling, like hundreds of people were watching him and waiting . . .

Orca laughed lightly, his voice revealing his outlook on their situation quite well. "Nice try kid, lots of monsters can travel through stone. Maybe even bring people with them, like the thing we're clearly going to deal with." He flashed an annoying smile in Kite's general direction, eyes glinting ominously in the darkness.

By now they had reached a crossroads, splitting left and right down corridors that looked equally grim and ancient. Kite had the unpleasant feeling that they were being watched, his eyes flickering around unnecessarily quickly. He turned to look at Orca and found the warrior had stiffened up like a statue, his sword arm steady and eyes looking around slowly, as if making note of every single detail of their present location. Kite made a step forward, about to ask Orca what was going on but he held a fist to stop Kite's advance. It looked like Orca wasn't even breathing.

It happened in a flash.

A ghostly girl darted from the western exit, long white hair flowing behind her like a cape and her dress rippling around a doll-like body. A white cloak was tied around her neck, held in place by a silver brooch and her colorless skin was the exact same shade as her pale hair. Her large eyes were twilight blue, a shade of color so unnervingly bright it seemed impossible to exist, and her dress was made of a shimmering material that didn't stay one color for more then a second. She was hovering in the air like some sort of ethereal spirit and, despite her white hair; she only looked eight or nine years old.

Kite's jaw dropped, amazed that such a hauntingly beautiful thing could exist but his shock quickly turned to horror as his stomach churned in fear.

Flying fast behind the girl was a demonic creature, made of what appeared to be rotting flesh melted together. It had no face of sorts and its legs ended in dagger pointed tips. Its arm segments and legs were not connected to the chest, which bore an unknown red insignia. Curved horns were on top of its head and in its right . . . (Kite was reluctant to call it a 'hand') was a long red staff, which looked as if it was made of crystallized blood. The wand ended with a large circle, a thin segment cutting through the middle of the circle and a second line cut out of the right side, turning the circle to a Q.

Both the creature and the girl gave no notice that Kite and Orca were there and they made no sound as they cut across the corridor to the eastern exit of the corridor. The event happened so fast Kite could have missed it simply by blinking. He swallowed, feeling as though a lump the side of his fist was caught in his throat and he turned to Orca in shock. "What WAS that?" he asked hoarsely and softly, "Who was that girl?"

It was a moment or two before Orca answered in a voice as hoarse and raspy as Kite's own. "No idea. But . . . it shouldn't have been here. No, not at all. This is bad . . . really bad . . ." He gave little notice that he wished to pursue the subject and Kite let him drop it, trying to ignore the millions of unanswered questions floating across the surface of his mind.

When Orca made a turn right, intent on following the girl and monster, Kite followed with little want. Though the girl had been . . . no earthly word could have described her correctly, he had no desire to ever see that monster ever again. However, all that met their gaze in the room the girl and her antagonist had entered were the partially decayed bones of a goblin and two empty chests. There was no other exit.

"Let's go," said Orca crisply and turned. He was much tenser, every mussel in his arms taunt and sword clasped in a white-knuckled death grip beneath his metal gauntlets. The thief rubbed his thumb absently against the hilt of his dagger, knowing it would prove very little help against that abomination with the wand if they had to fight it. Never the less, Kite followed Orca soundlessly out of the room and towards the other doorway at the end of the hall.

The next room had the crushed statue of some god in the center of a deep ditch, the arcane carvings on the limestone idol obscured by dust and mildew. In front of the trench was an empty chest, clearly once elaborate but now ruined like the idol. There were no clues, no evidence as to where the two figures had come from, or even the children that they had come searching for. Kite's stomach was still churning, making him feel very ill, his mind ablaze with questions.

"There's nothing left here. We have to get back to town, I need to talk to Balmung about this . . ." said Orca, his voice firm and almost a monotone. His face lacked any emotion, making him look both fearless and intimidating at the same time.

Kite turned to run out of the dungeon, cursing himself thousands of times over for ever mentioning this demonic place. As soon as both men had left the statue's final resting place, Kite found himself starring – not at the sturdy stone floor of the dungeon's floor – but at the bloodstained ground of some sort of nightmarish hell.

It was a single piece of land suspended in the air by seemingly nothing. Buildings, twisted and distorted, hovered in the air around them, similar islands of ichor-stained land around the one he was standing. There was nothing else in sight – no life, no exit – and the sky was a strange gray-green-brown and a heavy smell of death and decay in the air. Feeling as though he was going to be sick, Kite closed his eyes for a moment and turned sharply when he heard his companion curse low beneath his breath.

Orca gave a mighty swing of his sword, electrical magic coursing through the metal, his teeth grit and eyes flashing in horrific fear. Swallowing heavy, Kite tried to ignore the prickling at the back of his neck. He felt, again, like something was watching him from every angle.

There was a sound almost like bell-chimes, if the bell in question were made of glass. Kite turned, laying his eyes once again upon the girl with the doe-like eyes of an eerie shade of blue. She was hovering above the ground so that her head was level with his, her eyes both scared and sorrowful and her face set in a pathetic sort of frown. She didn't seem to be breathing, though it was hard to tell with the constant floating of her dress. She didn't look at Kite and stared straight at Orca, eyes widening and then narrowing to tiny slits.

Orca took a few steps towards her, eyes wide and mouth open in surprise. "It's you . . ." he said, in shock and gave a low bow of politeness to the girl. She didn't make any sort of movement. Kite was confused, even more so when the girl finally spoke.

Her voice was soft and mysterious, heavily saddened but like music from the same sort of bell that had signaled her arrival. It echoed strangely around them and a thick, leather bound book appeared in front of her. It had an odd golden seal on the cover; ruins on the leather binding that seemed to swirl constantly so that they never stayed one shape too long.

"Take this," she breathed, almost desperately, "Please, take this. There's no time . . . please."

"What . . . ?" asked Orca as the book floated over towards him. He took it with his free hand, which seemed to sag under the weight of the leather tome. "What is this?" he asked again, looking into the girl's large eyes that held Kite captive.

"A great force," she said, now speaking in jerky breaths as though she didn't have enough time to say it slow, "The power is holds can bring forth either salvation . . . or . . . destruction . . . at the whim of the user."

Orca seemed to snap out of something at those words, since he took a single step backwards, away from the girl. "You're . . . his . . ." He was silenced by the girl holding up a single, pale hand from beneath her rainbow shawl. Her eyes had widened beyond their already large size in fear, the pupils contracting to the point of disappearing into the sea of pale blue. She hovered higher into the air, her form becoming misted at the edges. "It's coming . . ." she whispered hoarsely before vanishing into the dark air.

This only brought up more questions into Kite's already aching brain. He turned around, Orca turning to him and shoving the book into the thief's arms. It was fairly heavy, but it seemed to waver between weights just as the symbols on its spine and on its lock changed constantly.

"You hold onto this," he hissed and Kite grudgingly tucked it under his arm. It constantly slipped out of its perch so that Kite had to switch both his daggers into his left hand to hold the book with his right.

Just as Kite was about to ask Orca just what the hell was going on, there was another sort of sound, this one like cracking bone, the demonic creature came forth merely a few feet from where Orca stood. It turned its ugly, square head around the area and, finally, turned it to Kite and Orca. Upon closer inspection, it was revealed to have eyes or, to be more accurate, eyeholes of deep black.

It slammed its staff onto the ground, causing its body parts to merge together for a moment before separating again. It pointed its staff at Orca, seemingly waiting for the Descendent of Fianna to brandish his blade. The man turned his head for a split second at Kite and the thief saw his friend had a sort of desperate anguish in his eyes.

"Run, it'll kill you!" yelled Orca, running with his sword raised and alight with electricity. Kite ground his teeth in anger, wishing for a moment he was better then a lowlife thief and an actual warrior that could help instead of standing uselessly.

The monster had ungodly speed. It avoided every one of Orca's furious blade swipes and magical attacks, retaliating with one of its own strikes, each one almost ten times stronger. Orca roared in fury, slamming the blade to collide with the ruby of the staff. A hollow clang echoed throughout the air and the monster gave Orca a single, sightless glare. If it had a mouth, it probably would have laughed.

It spun around in the air and slammed its staff down, shattering the blade in two as though it were butter. Defenseless, Orca raised a hand to summon something but the demon's staff smashed against his ribs with the sound of breaking bone. The creature waved its long fingered hand, each separate section of flesh cracking and moving further apart, and flung its staff forward. With some sort of unknown power, the monster seemed to lift Orca into the air, pinning the warrior to the wand even as he struggled. Kite could only stare in horror as the monster hovered forward, holding out a hand.

A strange, glass-like thing appeared around its wrist. It looked like pieces of a church window combined together in a vague bracelet shape. Whatever the thing was, it gave an aura of power that made his head feverishly woozy. As Orca struggled further to get off of his prison, the palm of the demon's hand shot a beam of white energy at Orca, which hit him full in the chest without a sound.

The staff disappeared to return to the monster's hand and Orca was flung backwards, landing face down on the ground. No physical wounds were visible as Kite checked and Orca spoke in a dying voice, full of panic.

"No . . . I . . . it . . . It wasn't supposed to be this way . . . I'm sorry . . . Get out of here!" His body fell limp, barely breathing. For a moment, he thought that Orca was dead. Kite stared in horror, both the book and his daggers dropping to the ground. Then his frightful, blue gaze turned to the monster. The glass like apparition was still on its wrist and the white glow was growing in its palm.

"No . . . "Before the light could hit Kite, a white staff – bearing two white rings around the tip Kite had only ever seen once before – slammed to the ground and let off shock waves in the air. The monster appeared to be blinded by the light of the staff and vanished in a few chimes of its evil sounding crack.

Kite's eyes shut tightly as his spinning mind gave way to darkness and he collapsed to the ground, unconscious in instants.

A woman, draped in a long white skirt and jacket, her eyes hidden by a white headdress and her long blond hair flowing around her neck, hovered to the ground and retrieved the staff with a simple jerk of her wrist. She turned her sightless gaze to the two unconscious men, a thin smirk of a smile tracing around her dark purple lips.

"It seems your son will need to carry on your legacy, O Crimson Raid," she said with a small laugh and tossed back a few locks of her hair, "As well as the job of a fallen hero. Looks like he has his work cut out for him." The woman waved her hand lazily. The two bodies and the girl's book vanished in a flutter of white and silver sparks.

The woman then turned towards the sky of the demonic place, watching as it changed from evil gray-black to the starry sky of night as she teleported to her base of operations. "It begins again."

* * *

". . . Poor boy. . ."

"What if he doesn't wake up like Orca?"

"Silence, I think he's stirring."

Kite's sore mind flickered back to consciousness with a sharp, unpleasant jolt. His vision was blurred for a few minutes before returning to a clarity he could stand. The room he was in was blurred and filled with autumn sunlight that reflected off of a marble floor. He wasn't in that dungeon, or that place with that monster, but the hospital back in Mac Anu. He recognized the skyline outside the window, with the winding canals and clear blue sky. His head was pounding in pain, even as he breathed in relief.

"Twilight Dragon, thank you," said a woman's soft and gentle voice. He turned to stare at the healer. It was an elderly woman, her hair dark gray and pulled into a bun. She had pale blue markings around her eyes, rather like cerulean flames, and her small form was draped in the pale, silver embroidered robes of a certified imperial healer. There were two other people behind her, a young woman with wavy blonde hair and a crimson dress and a man with the leather armor and saber issued by the Deltan branch of the Imperial military.

"What happened?" he asked quickly and sharply. The sound echoed in his sore head, resembling a hangover in a sense.

"One of the messengers coming into town found you and Orca just outside the city limits," explained the blonde woman, Alicia if he remembered correctly. Her voice was very soft, "You've been unconscious for three days. What happened out in the field?"

"There were . . . a monster . . . and a girl . . ." said Kite, noting how raspy his voice sounded. He hadn't even been hurt in that dungeon.

"A monster? You mean like a goblin or something?" asked the healer in disbelief, gripping her rowan staff with long fingers. He could understand her disbelief; it was a little hard to think the legendary Orca of the Azure Sea could have been beaten by a common goblin.

"No, this was different. It had a red wand and it did something to Orca . . . ." His throat constricted slightly and he had to speak through a hard lump afterwards. "It was chasing a girl with white hair . . ."

"Your story had numerous holes," said the soldier, his voice gruff. His dark red eyes, so very like the color of the creature's wand, were narrowed in distrust.

"Cyan, shush!" snapped Alicia harshly, eyes narrowed as well and glaring at the man. Kite noticed there was a sword belted on her waist, as if for precaution.

"This monster, did Orca kill it?" asked the healer, keeping her voice calm and soft.

Kite shook his head, but stopped as it only made him feel worse. "No, it . . ." The healer seemed to know what he was going to say and held up a hand to stop the words from coming out.

"Lad, Orca's in a coma, we were afraid you were to. He's not responding to anything I do."

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I do not own .hack, Bandai does. I own the gist of this story.

Please review.


	3. Soul Draining

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Soul Draining

* * *

A numb silence echoed throughout the room, Kite's vision slowly coming back into sharper focus. The rest of the healing chamber came into view, from the ribbons hanging on the ceiling and windows to the bushels of cinnamon and spearmint that hung by the window, the breeze wafting through it bringing in a strong, almost sickly sort of smell.

Kite's eyes flickered towards the only other occupied bed in the whitewashed temple room. Orca lay on a bed beneath the western window, his eyes closed and breathing shallow. The paint had been removed from his body, revealing sickly skin the color of sour milk that didn't quite suit his well-toned physique.

"Don't worry lad," said the healer, laying a wizened hand on Kite's shoulder and giving it a tight squeeze, "My magic will keep him from starving to death or dehydration, at least until he wakes up."

It was then that the soldier – Cyan, as Alicia had called him – moved a hand to grip his long saber's wire-wrapped hilt, ignoring the barmaid's and the healer's furious looks. His voice was very cold when he spoke. "Boy, I want to hear the whole story and if I know anything about the _legendary_," he spat, narrowing his eyes in pure hatred, "Hyrakkidouran Raikoumaru, he was too damn proud to lie and I _assume_ his son is the same."

Kite scowled deeply, eyes narrowed. He idolized his father, who was noble until the very last moments of his life, and he didn't appreciate being told that his father was 'too damn proud to lie'. In an almost-monotone voice, he explained the events that had occurred in the temple. As he spoke of them, the memories flashed within his mind, which constricted his voice even worse then before.

Cyan eyed Kite in unflattering disbelief at the end of the tale, voice trailing away as he finished. The soldier opened his mouth with the intent of saying something nasty until Alicia cut across him with a hard tongue, her hands on her sword's massive hilt and her eyes flashing dangerously.

"Don't you dare say a word Cyan, he told you the events and you said it yourself, Hyrakkidouran Raikoumaru was too insanely proud to lie and his son is the same way! Take one look at the boy and you'd be lying if you didn't see the Crimson Raid staring back at you!"

Kite felt his face grow hot as Cyan gave Alicia an indifferent stare, marching from the room with quick footsteps. The aged healer sighed, brushing a stray strand of iron gray hair from her eyes. She seemed to speak to the ceiling rather then to Kite's face. "A messenger has been sent to notify Balmung of his partner's condition, and I do think that he'll want to question you himself. He's not a very . . . agreeable man."

Kite nodded glumly and stood, taking his hat from the bedside table. Alicia shot the healer a worried look but the aged woman shook her head, smiling slightly. "His fever broke last night, he needn't stay here anymore. However," she turned to Kite, speaking sternly, "If you feel like you need to rest, come here immediately. I don't know what happened to you in detail, and I wouldn't take any risks, understood Mr. Raikoumaru?"

Kite nodded and the healer mirrored his movement. "Your daggers and your pack are with Alicia at her tavern," she explained and Kite nodded again.

With a final look at the comatose form of his friend, Alicia grabbed Kite's upper arm in a surprisingly tight grip and led him from the healer's temple.

Mac Anu was ablaze with talk and autumn sunlight, shoppers crowed around the stores by the canals' edges. Boats, seated with a rower and young couples, were in the bright cerulean waters, waving at the many citizens on dry land. Though its marketplace was nothing like Carmina Gadelica's prized bazaar, it was crowded with an impressive number of unique items.

The tavern district was no different, people visible through the glass windowpanes of the many restaurants and inns. The Dark Flame, located just on the edge of the marketplace, was full of talk and people eating lunch when Alicia led him in. Her employees, many who only worked there during the day, were passing about food or mugs of ale. They all fell silent as the two entered the tavern, several eyes flashing towards Kite, but gradually fell into talk again.

"Kid, find a seat and I'll get you something to drink," she said in a motherly tone, her smile dripping honey in a sickening sort of way.

"But -" Alicia laughed hard, shaking her head and grinning wider. She whispered in his ear, pressing a long finger to his lips. "Don't give me the 'underage, so I can't drink' crap; we don't listen to the empire unless an inspector's here. I think you should come here when one shows up, it's always fun to see them squirm under my charm." To add to her words, she winked at a man, who flushed while his companions gave a roaring laugh.

She walked off towards the bar, leaving him to push through the crowd towards an empty table in the back. Flinging himself into the chair, he leaned back and sighed heavily. A part of him claimed responsibility for this whole mess; it was he who had told Orca to go there, and he who had failed to defend his friend in the monster's attack. There was another part that was saying he did nothing bad, he just told information, Orca went on his own and he was a weak little boy who couldn't do anything right, he thought with a sarcastic sort of grin.

* * *

**Ten Years Previous to Present Date**

'_Lookie, lookie 'ere fellas!' cat-called one bandit, his bald head and golden earring glittering in the bright torchlight, 'It be lil' ol' Kite, back from 'nutha failed job I reckon.' The other thieves the other room, their numbers only about three, cackled as they looked towards their leader's only heir. _

The small, six-year-old boy, his long turquoise bangs flopping into his matching eyes, looked up at the man, his wide smile fading quickly. His hat, much too large for his head, was tilted on an angle with the flaps lopsided. His large eyes narrowed and ignored the man's comment, continuing towards the door on the left. The bandit leapt down and grabbed the front of Kite's shirt, pulling him eye-level and a good few feet off of the ground.

'Don't care if yer Crimson's son, no brat gives me any lip,' he snarled, grinning with broken teeth as Kite winced, clutching the leather bag in his hands even tighter.

'I-I didn't say anything!' yelled Kite, trying to get himself free. The man laughed and threw the small child onto the stone floor. There was a nasty crack as he landed on his left arm, the limb bending backwards in an awkward manner and he let out a cry of pain, large eyes filling up with tears almost instantly.

The man sniggered; raising a foot to bring it down on the boy's small but turned his bald-head sharply as a woman's curt voice cut across the silent air, her words thick fury.

'Don't you dare lay another FINGER on my son you bastard!'

The speaker, indeed a woman barely out of her twenties, wore a pair of leather trousers, a white blouse under a red vest and knee high boots, her blue-green hair pulled into an elegant braid. Crimson markings in the shape of thunder bolts cut across her eyes, which were currently narrowed in fury. She had a belt buckled around her waist, two daggers attached to it along with a money pouch. She was built tall and slim, long fingers ending in inch-long nails. She was gracefully beautiful and held herself high and proud, her eyes a blazing pale blue color. Her lips were pursed and she drew both daggers elegantly, holding them and shifting into a battle stance.

The man gawked and bowed ridiculously low, the sleeves of his long shirt covering all but the tips of his fingers, as Kite sat up, crying and clutching his broken arm. His leather bag seemed abandoned for the moment.

'Lady Rei!' gasped the man and the other thieves got to their feet, bowing low to their mistress.

She made no notice that she had heard him, other then raising her right dagger so it was between his eyes. 'Get away from my son and do it now,' she said, voice as cold as ice. She had a distinct Omegan accent, light and brisk and usually disconnected with the harshness of her words.

He looked over his shoulder disgustedly at the sobbing child, who stuck his tongue out at the bandit. 'Milady, he failed in his mission, jus' givin' him da usual treatment fer failures, ya know.'

_She tipped her nose in the air, tightening the hold on her knives. 'That **failure** is the next head of the Crimson Deaths and I don't give a damn if he got half the tribe killed, he is the son of the Crimson Raid and you do well to respect him,' she snarled. Rei nodded her head to the left. 'Now get, all of you.' _

They scurried away, movements similar to the quick steps of rodents. Rei sheathed her daggers and knelt down by her son. Her eyes were soft as she tilted his head up with one long nail. 'Now, now, let mommy have a look,' she cooed warmly, taking his broken arm gingerly. He looked at her with watery blue eyes as she whispered a healing spell, pressing two fingers to the broken segment. The bone readjusted itself, though there was no physical change.

'_Mama, why did he . . .? I got it . . .' whispered Kite, wiping his tears on the sleeve of his shirt. _

She looked at him sharply, eyes growing to the size of sauce plates as she readjusted her son's hat. 'You-you got the Lady Killers?' she squeaked after a long moment of silence, 'You actually managed it?'

Kite nodded eagerly, grinning madly, and he pulled from the inside of his leather bag two dagger scabbards on the same golden belt. Both had the same, ornate silver hilt with glistening diamonds in it as well as the same words embroidered onto the sheaths, 'Lady Killer'. Rei lifted her son up gently, the boy clutching the daggers to his chest like they were a priceless treasure. Which they were, she reminded herself with a wide grin.

'_You really do deserve the name of Kite Raikoumaru, my good little boy,' she giggled, kissing Kite delicately on the cheek and watching her son's watery face split into a wide smile. _

'_Really? Papa will be happy again?' he asked, pushing his hat back so it no longer blocked his view any more._

'_Kite, he'll be happy for a very long time! You're certainly in for a treat!'_

_

* * *

__  
Hyrakkidouran Raikoumaru was a short, thin man with bright turquoise hair in a long ponytail that brushed his shoulder blades, his dark red eyes serious and hardened. His skin was tan and scared almost everywhere, his face bore the same red triangle markings that his son had inherited. He wore black pants and a long sleeved tunic with bell-like sleeves, hiding a lock pick set. Twin daggers were belted to his waist, and Rei knew he had at least four more hidden somewhere on his person. He turned sharply at the sound of Rei's footsteps and his eyes glimmered with happiness at the weapons his son was holding. _

'_The Lady Killers!' He took the daggers happily and pulled one's blade out. He ran his thumb along the sharp edge, the small sword inches from his eyes, 'Kite, you got these?' _

Kite nodded happily and his mother set him down, adjusting the hat once again. 'He inherited your skill, Hyrakkidouran. Nobody else could steal a Lambdanian treasure like that at age six, but your son,' she said, leaning forward to kiss her husband on the cheek.

Hyrakkidouran chuckled, wrapping an arm around his wife's shoulder to return her kiss. 'Your flattery is nice, Rei.' She scowled darkly, pushing away from him lightly. 'I'm commenting our son.' He laughed again

Both thieves turned towards the young boy, who was yawning widely and almost asleep at his mother's legs. 'Yes, he must be good . . . to carry on the Raikoumaru's curse . . .'

* * *

"Hey you!"

Kite looked up, almost uninterestedly, into the wine-colored eyes of a young girl, around his age. She had very unusual looks, especially her . . . clothing. She had darkly tan skin, her revealed midriff and cheekbones bearing jagged, thorny markings the color of cream. She was thin and fit, like a runner, and wore elaborately designed metal armor of a brandy color on her shoulders, hips and chest. Boots came up to her thighs, the tops hidden by her white skirt, ornate silver designs crossing over the slick indigo material of the boots. A sword scabbard was at her hip, a vast one containing a broadsword with a hilt wrapped in navy wire. Spiky, petal pink hair clung to her scalp and she was looking down at him through angry eyes.

A little surprised, he looked up from her body and up to her red eyes, a thin blush on his cheeks. She wasn't dressed modestly, at least compared to his standards. She took no notice and spoke again in a crisp, clear accent he had never heard before.

"Well? You finally listening, dagger boy?" she barked, arms crossed over her chest, one foot tapping the ground impatiently.

"Who exactly are you?" he asked in a dull tone. She went red in anger and placed a hand on the golden hilt of her sword, the other one leaning against the top of his table.

"Speak with a better tone, boy, I am Blackrose." He hid his amusement at the name, though she obviously seemed to tell he was amused. She ground her teeth and slammed her other fist on the table with enough force to shake it violently.

"I am from the Ghost Islands, outside this empire's worthless control. Give me any cheek about me or my culture and you will pay dearly." The words were laced with a venomous threat and her eyes were blazing with dark, evil-looking fury.

He raised both eyebrows, staring at her in a whole new light. An islander? But . . . that couldn't be right; no islander had left their archipelago since the founding of the empire, King Ito had made quite sure of that. She gave a smirk at his surprise and tilted her head so that her pink bangs fell casually into her eyes. "I'll higher you for a mercenary if you escort me to a church not to far from the city." It wasn't a question.

Kite nodded; standing and checking to make sure both his daggers were at his side. She gave him a quizzical look, pursing her lips. "Aren't you going to tell me your name!" She demanded with a hand on her hip.

"It's Kite Raikoumaru," he said simply, his blue eyes meeting her dark-colored eyes. She nodded and marched from the pub. Alicia watched as Kite left, but quickly had to return to her work.

'Hope that kid knows what he's doing,' she thought heavily, passing around mugs of whisky to some Sigmanian merchants.

Blackrose was a very demanding woman, as Kite soon found out. Her knowledge of the mainland was a bare minimum though it did seemed that she knew a lot about horses. Kite himself rode Orca's white stallion, Snowfall, while Blackrose mounted Kite's old mare, Woodfall. The stables were at the edge of town so that the smell did not linger in the marketing district, an extremely smart move. She adjusted herself in the saddle and turned to Kite, a smirk twisting her tan face.

"Right, let's go." She twisted the reins and dug her heels into the horse's flanks. Both raced out of town, the hooves slamming against the concrete and then the dirt road. She was having an enjoyable time, a fiery spark glimmering in her eyes.

The cathedral in question was a holy ground for the ancient pagans. A magnificent building made of pure white marble, it was a tradition for the Deltans to visit it before long journeys and pray to the statue of the Chained Girl inside. Exactly who the Chained Girl was had been lost to time; the statue's name wasn't even its true one. Being Lambdanian by birth, Kite had little experience with such customs. The capital country for the empire, most of the customs of old had been lost.

Blackrose leaned against Woodfall's mane, a manic glint in her dark red eyes. It was all he could do to keep up with her. He dug his own heels into Snowfall's flanks and the horse, a parting gift from Theta when Orca and Balmung had left it years ago, sped up and quickly passed the mare. Theta was famed for its beautiful, fast (and expensive) horses and swift Grunties, the pig-like creation that had been brought forth from Wavemaster's magic. Delta had none on its own, but Lambda had plenty. Kite's own mother had owned an Aqua Grunty who had taken it upon itself to taste everyone of the cook's dishes.

The massive cathedral loomed ever closer as Blackrose finally slowed down, leaping down and leading the tired horse on foot towards the door, where she tied her reins to a spike by the door. Kite mirrored her actions and she drew her long, broad blade, giving a jerk of her head and he drew both his blades. She kicked the doors open with a loud crash, scratching the marble floor somewhat.

"Don't you have any respect? This is a holy building," he asked with a thin smile. She laughed openly and the twosome walked inside.

The walls and floor were shinning brightly, polished eternally by magic, and sunlight cast the Chained Girl into shadow. She had a delicately carved face, dressed in noble clothing and an inscription was under her. Rows of benches were carved from marble and sat in front of the statue, which had an iron fence blocking vandals.

"That . . . that statue," gasped Blackrose, a free hand clutching her heart. She sounded like she was going to cry, which was such a change from her previous brutality that he stared at her in shock, "It looks so . . . so sad . . ."

"The Chained Girl is an important part to the Delta pagans. I think she's supposed to represent homesickness, since it's a tradition for travelers to pay her thanks." He leaned close to the inscription but had to squint at the writing. Though the majority of the writing was hidden by age, he could make out three words around the middle of the phrase.

"Skeith . . . Innis . . . Magus . . . I can't read the rest, the inscription is faded."

She cleared her throat and he turned to her. She looked like she wanted to say something important but couldn't find the right words.

"I'm . . . sorry for the way I acted," she confessed and he almost did a double take, "You see, I'm trying to find –"

She was cut off by the heavy marble doors slamming open and armor clinking. Both turned and Kite found himself looking at Orca's partner, Balmung of the Azure Sky.

A young man with pale skin and platinum hair, he could have easily passed as an albino had his eyes not been a blazing emerald color. His armor was dark navy in color, ornamental wings hanging from his arms. Every inch of his body, except his face, was hidden by his impressive armor. Large, angelic wings were fastened to his shoulder blades and were tightly folded to his back – Balmung was the only Sprite to ever possess wings, he was well known for them. He was gripping a long, magnificent sword in his left hand, the hilt silver with glittering sapphire jewels set into it. A black, leather bandanna held back his long bangs. He had a proud, narrow face and a tight jaw, eyes livid in anger.

"What are you doing here!" he roared, voice with a Sigma accent. Blackrose, all traces of her previous sorrow and politeness gone, balled her free hand into a fist and thrust her blade through the air.

"Well what about you, huh!" she roared back, equally angry at being disturbed.

"There's no time, get out of here!" he bellowed, running towards them.

"What!"

"I'M TELLING YOU TO GET OUT!"

There was a flash of light and something monstrous dropped from the ceiling. A monster, covered in green and black scales, a blunt sword in one hand and a skull in its other. It had no head of its own. Where the hell had it come from, there was no way something that size could have been in the ceiling of the cathedral?

Balmung jumped high, aided by his wings, and thrust his blade down, slicing the monster's arm off. It gave a roar of pain but from the bloodless stump, another arm grew itself, complete with armor. Kite yelled and stumbled backwards, Blackrose shrieking in terror. Balmung swore loudly and violently.

"This one as well . . ." he muttered, though the words made little sense to Kite.

Blackrose, her wine colored eyes blazing in fury, raised her blade and charged at the monster, giving an unearthly battle cry. "NO!" bellowed Balmung, holding out a hand as if trying to will her back, "It's been infected by a plague from the north! It cannot be defeated, the virus will keep it alive, and you'll kill yourself! This thing can't be beaten!"

This thing, can't be beaten . . . Just like the monster that put Orca into a coma . . .

**_Open the book . . . _**

'The book?' he demanded but no sound passed his lips.

**_The power it holds can bring forth either salvation . . . or . . . destruction . . . at the whim of the user._**

The book the ghostly girl had presented Orca appeared from thin air, levitating in front of him. He had completely forgotten about it until now. Neither of the others took notice; they were too busy trying in vain to hack the monster to pieces.

The pages opened, revealing text scrawled in ancient ruins. The book hovered for a moment then burst into light. This got the notice of Balmung, Blackrose and the monster as they stared in shock at what was happening. The monster seemed injured by its light.

The white light covered his body and it was like fire covered every inch of his skin. Through his pain, he realized that his wrist bore a glass like apparition similar to the monster's weapon that had deprived Orca of his conscious state. He heard himself yell out two words he did not catch, a magical incantation probably since they had an effect instantly following.

His own palm was glowing white as well and with a yell of agony, he pointed it towards the monster. It shot a blast of the same white light and hit the monster head on. It gave a banshee like scream of pain crumbled to dust after Balmung slashed it across the chest.

Kite fell to his knees, deprived of almost all his energy. It was an amazement he was still conscious; his breathing was so slow and ragged and his mind was spinning in nausea. Something small was in his hand, the one that had just fired the white energy. It was small and vaguely gem-like, circular and near indistinguishable from a glass marble. Scratched onto the surface of the item was an 'M'. But he turned his attention from the marble to the others in the room, swallowing a mouthful of warm bile.

Blackrose was pale as snow – surprising due to her dark complexion – and gapping at him with her sword falling to the ground with a crash. Balmung, however, turned to him with fury written on every inch of his pale face.

"So, you are one of the scum responsible for destroying our world," he whispered, venom dripping from his voice, "To think that I was saved by the likes of you."

"W-What are you talking about?" gasped Kite, looking up at Balmung. The legendary Descendent of Fianna, one of the two strongest swordsmen on the continent, was walking towards him, sword raised to slice his body into two.

"No!" yelled Blackrose, recovering from her shock, "Why the hell are you going to kill Kite!"

"The black-hearted magicians who spread plagues across the land deserve no mercy. I will kill all those who threaten this world." He slashed his sword through the air. "Draw, draw your sword!" he demanded. Kite shook his head, getting shakily to his feet. "I won't! There's no reason to!" How he could still talk was far beyond him.

Balmung's green eyes narrowed further, glittering with his magical power. "There is for me," he stated simply, yet the words left mystery in the air.

Blackrose grabbed her sword and swung it to collide with Balmung's. Caught by surprise, he stumbled backwards and gave the girl a strange look, though it too was filled with venomous anger. "Cut him a break, he saved your worthless life," she said fearlessly. Kite didn't know if she was just that cocky or didn't know Balmung's reputation.

The thief blinked back the white dots at the edge of his vision, forcing himself to stay conscious. Balmung stiffened and sheathed his sword.

"I . . . need time to think this through. If I find out you are involved, I will kill you." It was a simple statement, yet made the sparse hairs on the back of his neck stand straight up. With a final, silencing glare, the swordsman marched from the room.

"Kite . . ." said Blackrose soothingly, almost in a motherly tone. He turned to look at her before his eyes rolled to the back of his head and he collapsed to the ground. It was not unconsciousness, but strangely sleep.

Outside, a white-clad woman watched Balmung from the cathedral's roof, her slim hands gripping a magnificent staff that glowed with ethereal light. She called down to him as he walked from the church in a storming fury. Her voice was mocking surprise, the eyes behind her headdress flashing with malicious mirth.

"That was rather childish for Balmung of the Azure Sky, Descendent of Fianna," she said innocently, pronouncing his titles in a taunting fashion.

He looked up at her in fury, his eyes narrowed to slits. "I will not speak to the likes of you," he spat, waving his hand and speaking a few words under his breath. The lightning bolts he summoned bounced innocently off the shield she had surrounding her body. Seeing the uselessness of his magic, he continued marching away with his wings rustling as he prepared to take flight.

"That boy . . . he's a friend of your partner's," responded the woman, teleporting away in rings of golden light.

Balmung froze, suspended a few feet from the ground. "Orca . . . ?"

* * *

It took a long time but Blackrose had carried the slumbering Kite from the temple to Woodfall's back. It was nightfall when they made it back to the Dark Flame. The usual people who drank late had already gone home or to and Alicia was happily enjoying dinner at a table by the fire, draped in warm furs. Tonight was especially cold.

The doors burst open and the tan girl who had come in earlier came in, dragging Kite limply. The most noticeable change about the boy was his attire, which had changed from dark green to bright, vivid crimson, yellow symbols inscribed on his legs. His skin was pale, head lolling onto the side, but his breathing was steady and even. Alicia stood, her fork falling down with a clatter.

"Trouble clings to him like flies cling to death. Give him to me." As Alicia took Kite, his head flopped against her arm, a troubled smile revealed upon his young face. Alicia sighed and with the tan girl's help, carried Kite to a bed upstairs.

* * *

I do not own .hack, Bandai does. I own the gist of this story.

Please review.


	4. A Cat Like Sprite

* * *

A Cat Like Sprite

* * *

Sunlight pierced through Kite's closed eyelids, stinging the tender and fragile organs. He flinched slightly and sat up, flexing his stiff joints. There was a dull pain in the back of his head, nothing too serious but there none the less. Crisp autumn sunlight filtered through the medium-sized window, bathing the mahogany furniture in a rich light. He saw his bag, daggers and hat perched upon the small desk. It was silent in the upper story of the inn but he found a single person enjoying a bowl of oatmeal downstairs. 

Alicia smiled gently and stood from her seat, still holding onto her spoon. "You're still very pale, maybe you should rest a little longer."

He shook his head and sat down at her table. Kite rubbed his wrist edgily. It looked like there was nothing there but it felt like something was tied to it, like slick metal almost. He examined it for a while then turned back to Alicia. She had returned to her seat, elbows on the table, hands crossed and her chin resting on it. Her bright blue eyes surveyed him with interest, a thin smile on her lips.

"You know, you look surprisingly like Orca when you're deep in thought. You both have the same glazed look about your eyes. But forgive an old woman's rambling." She chuckled lightly and tossed back her hair, which was braided today.

"Alicia, you know that girl I was with?"

She tilted her head slightly. "The tan girl with a bad attitude? Yes, she's rented a room in the Dark Flame for a while. She said something about finding an early-morning sparring partner."

"Well, you answered my first two questions." Kite himself had a small smile on his face. "Do you have a message board around here? Free of imperial bothers?"

Her lips pursed slightly, eyes darkening. "Your information comes at a price, my young friend," she said after a dramatic pause, "Our board has some information, but not enough to go on for a long while." She stood and made her way towards the empty bar. He noted an almost empty mug of brandy on the oak wood countertop, the bottle close by, and wondered if it was she who had been drinking so early.

From under the counter she pulled a long silver chain with a key attached to it. Turning her head in all directions, Alicia made sure nobody was watching except for Kite. This was a little silly, considering they were the only two downstairs. She nodded at Kite and turned towards the staircase. Against the wall near the stairs was a large tapestry, depicting a cityscape of Mac Anu. Alicia brushed aside the tapestry to reveal a wooden door carved into the wall. She turned the key in the lock, pulling the door open.

The room inside was dark, a table and chairs in the middle. There was a wine rack on the ground and the wall to the immediate right of the door was covered in parchment papers and miscellaneous advertisements. Alicia picked up an unlit candle on the table and lit it with a flick of magic and a single word.

Catching Kite's shocked look; she shot him a quizzical glance. "You don't know magic? Not even a single spell?" He shook his head.

"My father thought it was a waste of time, just for show." She pursed her lips again but gave a dark laugh.

"Yes, he would think that. Stupid fool. I do suppose your out for revenge against that thing with the red wand?" Kite nodded, eyes darkening. It was rare to see him vengeful like that.

"Then you need to learn some decent magic skills, but you'll worry about that later, won't you?" She turned to the papers on the wall, eyes bitter and voice quiet. "Most of the stuff here is crap, but you may find something to your liking." She handed him the candle and walked out. "Lock the door when you're done."

Kite glanced at the numerous papers on the wall, riffling through the useless job advertisements and pointless information. A few posts caught his attention and he tore them down to read.

Boards worked in an easy fashion. One person would post an ad he or she wanted and people would scrawl replies, attaching them to the first post. Therefore, they could go on for ages and ages. The majority was job advertisements or mercenary requests, but there were others . . . certain things the empire wouldn't want disclosed to the public eye. Including numerous other comatose cases. There was at least five others scattered across Delta, and a few others from other countries.

Kite felt his temper rise, throat constricted. With more then five unexplained coma cases, the empire should have taken action, least of all the militia. Yet, no action appeared to be done. He scanned the only two that appeared of any interest.

* * *

_I saw a strange person at the Sea of Sand in the west, when coming here. It was a little girl with long hair, but she didn't look human. She was kind of white – like a ghost and moved without a sound. I could be mistaken, but if anyone sees her, please tell me.

* * *

_

The girl had to be the ghost who had presented Orca the book; it had to be her. The description was too similar.

* * *

_The Twin Hills are blocked by imperial soldiers. No idea why. Anyone got a clue?

* * *

_

Perhaps that demon was there?

With a sigh, he stood and walked from the room. The information was useful, but not enough to go on for long.

Blackrose was talking to Alicia when he returned in. The two women went silent at the sight of him and Blackrose stood with hands on her hips. Her hair was even more of a mess then before and her eyes were narrowed. It seemed she had been unable to find a sparring partner, considering her body looked well-rested.

"You'd better not think I'm letting you off that quick," she snapped.

He blinked, confused. "Excuse me?"

"I hired you as a mercenary and I'm not letting you quit. You're still my bodyguard."

Kite looked at her in shock. She was kidding, right? Alicia stood, seeing how Kite was about to respond not too nicely.

"Listen, you need help if you really want revenge," she said to Kite, "And if she's half as good with that sword as she is with verbal warfare, then she'll be an excellent companion."

Blackrose narrowed her eyes at Alicia. "You're pissing me off, woman, I was the best swordswoman of my village."

"Right and you," said Alicia, turning to Blackrose with a snappish quality to her melodic voice, "You're still new to the mainland and Kite can help you there."

"I don't need his help," said the islander stubbornly, crossing her arms over her chest and giving them both a narrow glare. "None the less," said Alicia with a heavy sigh, "Kite, please just accompany her. Keep her out of my inn."

Kite nodded, though he knew long arguments would await the new partnership. Blackrose gave Kite a sharp glare and shifted her weight to one hip. "Very well."

He gave her a small smile out of politeness and the two walked out of the pub. Alicia grabbed her empty oatmeal bowl and went to wash it out.

"Twilight Dragon, claw me. They're going to die one day and it'll be my fault."

* * *

Loud talking filled the market place as Kite and Blackrose marched through it. Her quick wit and sharp tongue spelled the end whenever he tried to buy something, and he wasn't eager to steal something in front of so many people. The last thing he wanted right now was a lot of attention from the local military forces. 

Aromatic Grass, a strong healing herb and very useful in recovering from poison induced wounds, was what one merchant was selling in large stocks. Midway through a bargain with the man, Kite's partner stepped in. Obviously thinking the plant was to be smoked as a drug, she began to tell the poor man off. Kite had to drag her off before she attracted the attention of the knight brigade in the town.

"Why did you stop me!" she barked, wrenching her arm free of his grip.

"That was a very good healing item, we could have needed it," he hissed.

"Why didn't you tell me? Stupid boy . . ." He sighed, not even trying to argue with her.

Two men, dressed in armor of the Theta country, were leaning near by. One was smoking a pipe that gave a horrible smell from the smoke, probably ground Cordyceps. They were deep in debate about something that caught his attention at once.

"Did you see that group in the alleyway?" said one with a heavy accent that made it hard to understand his words, "The silver haired wizard with the demon?"

Kite turned, listening while pretending to nonchalantly walk by. Blackrose paid little attention, her gaze flickering towards a display of exotic spices and salts.

"Ja," said the other in a similar accent, "Woulda thought she wuz a monster, had she not spoken in human tongue."

"Think we should alert the militia?"

This made the other man chuckled then coughed as he swallowed smoke from his pipe. "Nah, the more trouble for the empire, the happier we countrymen be."

The only alleyway in Mac Anu to fit actual people in it was by the scroll shop. Scrolls, a creation of ancient Wavemasters, contained magical spells for those – like Kite – who could cast no spells on their own. A marvelous creation, though Kite's father looked down upon them as well. The only exception was The Moon charm, considering the effect was _very_ useful during raids.

"Come on," he muttered to Blackrose, nodding towards the scroll shop.

She pursed her lips, clearly not liking to be given orders but didn't voice her opposition to the plan. Pushing through the crowds, the indigo light from the numerous candles and incenses burning there giving the shop away. The air around it was thick and musty; rosemary and lavender present most of all.

The woman behind the counter wore a heavy black dress with a shawl hiding her hair and face, her gentle purple eyes solely visible. She was gripping a long, twisted staff made of polished ebony wood, the end having an amethyst orb that caught the flickering of the candlelight. Her name was partly unknown to the majority of foreigners; many who passed through Mac Anu simply called her Lavender for her eyes and the smell the clung to her body.

She called out to Blackrose, moving closer to the ivory counter of the shop. "Ah, you appear to be far from home," she said in a wheezy voice that suited a woman thrice her age, "Might you look at some of the magical seals I sell? I can tell you are preparing for a long journey, my magic may prove to help you."

This was exactly what Kite needed. Blackrose turned, eyes interested as Lavender – with much elaborate twirling of her hand – pointed out a group of water attack scrolls. Kite slipped by and walked down the alleyway.

"Hey Mia," came a young boy's soft-spoken voice with a native accent, "There's supposed to be a grove of Aromatic Grass outside town, want to check it out?"

A female voice, brisk, clear and with a light, fluid accent not of Deltan origin, answered. "Yeah, sure."

As Kite rounded the corner, he found himself greeted by the two people the Thetain travelers had described.

A young boy, a year or two Kite's junior, was there. He had chin length silver-blue hair, half hidden under a navy blue and black hat. His eyes were a sorrowful looking crimson that glinted like dying fire. His skin was very pale, sea green markings on his cheeks somewhat in the shape of F's. He wore long black robes, hard-soled boots and gauntlets; his right hand grasped around a staff made of ivory. If the boy ever sold it, he could make quite a fortune. Ruby shards were embedded into the ivory, the top most part curving round about an orb a mix of pale blue and green colors. Scrawny in build and sickly looking, one could automatically place him as a Wavemaster.

Although the strongest people in the fields of magic, many Wavemasters were looked down upon for their destructive offensive magic. The extent of their powers was unknown and not many could become one. Most children were tested at a young age for magical ability and, if they were found to be strong enough, they were taken from their families to be trained in the magical arts. The boy here was clearly the student of a very rich master, his staff reflected that at a glance.

His companion was indeed the odd creature the Theatens had mentioned. Dark purple fur covered her body, long cat-like ears atop her head. Decked in form-fitting forest green armor, a short sword's sheath was at her left hip. Cream colored boots hid her feet but not her toes, similar gloves on her hands. A long, whip-like tail twitched about her legs, her eyes narrow and bright yellow with slit pupils. Whiskers were on her cheeks, which had white fur unlike the rest of her body. She was muscular to a degree and had a curvy build, her movements fluid and graceful like a dance. However, it was like she had been strictly trained as her lady-like pace had a certain mechanical quality Kite could not explain.

Her ears twitched for a moment and she turned sharply towards the young thief. Her eerie eyes narrowed and she marched up to him. Her Wavemaster companion blinked. "Uh, Mia?" he asked, confused and hurried after her.

The cat-like creature the boy had dubbed as 'Mia' had made it to the young thief. "You have an interesting bracelet," she declared, grabbing his wrist where the glass-like apparition had appeared. Her eyes were livid with excitement.

"Can you see it?" he asked, shocked. He himself could see nothing on his wrist, it surprised him greatly that she could.

She looked at him directly, a thin smile tracing her mouth and eyes still narrowed. "Yes, you mean you can't see this nice bracelet?" Kite nodded.

"Well, even if you can't see it, knowing its there is the same thing as seeing it, am I correct?"

A surge of . . . something laced through Kite's mussels and he shivered slightly. Her smile widened, almost as though she wanted him to feel that pain, but at the same time it was though she were shocked he could.

"Hey Mia, what are you talking about? I can't see any bracelet," said her companion, looking quizzically at his friend. Mia threw down Kite's arm leaving the dagger-wielding thief looking at her in mild surprise.

"Well thanks again," she said in an almost seductive matter, "For letting me look at your bracelet. I have a feeling we'll meet again."

She walked off. The Wavemaster gave Kite a venomous look before calling after Mia. "Wait, Mia, what about the Aromatic Grass?" He ran off to.

Kite looked down at his wrist. Nothing was there, but it felt as though something tightened around his skin. He gave a shiver again. This was all too eerie for his tastes.

* * *

I do not own .hack, Bandai does. I own the gist of this story.

Please review.


	5. Stories from the Past

* * *

Stories from the Past

* * *

The sunset painted the sky dapple orange with hues of pinkish purple; a magnificent sight that artists craved to get on canvas but never could. Few citizens were up at the hour, save for some shopkeepers and owners of taverns reading themselves for the breakfast rush.

Kite heaved the supply-laden saddle on top of Snowfall's back, Alicia there to see he and Blackrose off. They were headed towards the Sea of Sand where the ghostly girl was said to rest, if the message board was anything to go off of. The islander was wrapped in a black cloak, her sword scabbard horribly revealed by the folds of fabric. Kite too was draped in a crimson cloak, matching his changed clothing. He hadn't given it much thought though, it wasn't that drastic of a change.

"May the grace of the Twilight Dragon be with you both," said the barmaid, bowing low. Her bright eyes were on the ground and slowly traveled towards Kite's feet. She pursed her lips and her pale blue eyes met his gaze.

"Tell me, you are a sprite, right?" He blinked, startled at the odd question, climbing into his stallion's saddle.

"Yes, why?" he asked slowly.

"I knew not of any sprites who cast shadows."

"What are you talking about? I don't have a shadow." Alicia laughed and pointed to the ground and his eyes followed her point. His eyes fell upon his profile, stretched upon the cobblestone in darkest ebony. He blinked twice and stared in shock at his own shadow.

The only beings who bore shadows were humans, which many on the continent considered inferior. Though Mac Anu had refused to take part in the slave trade, Lambda did not. A bitter taste clung to his mouth when he remembered the small girl his father had bought back when he was ten. Pale skinned and dark haired, she had been both very pretty and outrageously loyal. Her end had been too tragic . . .

* * *

**Six Years Previous to Present Date**

'_Worthless trash!' _

A girl's fragile body hit the stone floor of the Crimson Death's dungeon. The bald bandit, the same one who had broken Kite's arm four years previous, sneered madly and kicked the girl painfully in the chest. She cried in agony, tears falling from her watery blue eyes.

'_Please, stop it!' she cried, curling into a ball. _

The bandit gave a laugh. 'You can't command me, ya worthless shadow!'

The door banged open, Lady Rei silhouetted in doorway with her young son at her heels. Where her face had been split in a cheerful smile before, her eyes suddenly widened in fear and anger at the sight of her bleeding servant on the floor.

'Savannah!' cried Kite, hurrying over towards the servant but the bandit threw back the young boy with a toss of his gorilla-like arms.

'Get away from dis scum, she ain't worth yer compassion.' He wrenched from his back a large, blunt axe with a rusty blade. Rei gasped and ran forward.

'Beta, don't you dare lay another finger on either of them!'

'Dat's da problem wit ya, ya've got pity fer the shadows. Dey ain't fit ta walk da earth and I'll put an end ta dis ones disgustin' existence.'

'What did she do to label her 'disgusting'?'

'She called me a liar!'

Beta threw aside Rei and the Thief Queen was only moved from the shock that any would dare touch her. He raised his hands, which were clutching the axe and Savannah closed her eyes and screamed. It was cut short and with a sickening crack, the axe embedded itself in her skull. Blood seeped across the floor.

Kite's eyes filled with tears and Rei, pale as death, clasped her son's shoulders. 'Kite, Kite, go find your father. Now!'

He ran, pleased to be free from the disgusting scene in the room. Once the door was shut, he fell to the ground and pressed his ear against the door. He wanted to hear what was going on.

'How dare you decide what to do with the servants we hire!' roared Rei's voice.

'She ain't a servant, she a slave. A dead slave.' Beta laughed horribly.

'You madman!' There was the sound of metal on leather and of metal removing itself from flesh.

With a slash of metal and stone, the axe's head came through the doorway, inches from Kite's head. He bit his tongue to stop himself from screaming and listened closer. With a grunt of pain, he heard Beta clatter to the floor and his mother give a small laugh of disgust. He knew what was coming next and was very glad he had left the room. Rei spoke again, her voice steady and venomous.

'I am the Lady of Thieves, Queen of Bandits. My blades will be stained with the crimson blood that marks your death.' Though he could not see, he knew Rei had sunk her daggers into the bandit.

Silence echoed throughout the room. Kite's heart hammered as he heard Rei walk towards the door where he was crouched by. Without a word or sound, he ran from sight just as Rei came out. Indeed, she was clutching two blood soaked daggers in her hands, her face a mask of seriousness and sadness.

* * *

Kite shook his head, trying to rid himself of the memory. He stared down at his newly developed shadow for a few moments, and then turned back to Alicia. "It's probably because of that damn bracelet," he explained bitterly, "It was the same thing that put Orca into a coma."

She gave him a stern, confused look and Blackrose elaborated while Kite climbed into Snowfall's saddle. Alicia sighed heavily and ran her long fingers through her blond hair. "Be warned then, many of the empire will try to make you a slave, and I doubt you could give proof of your origin without getting your head lobbed off by an axe."

He shuddered at the thought of meeting an end such as Savannah's and nodded briskly to Alicia. She gave them a curtsy and turned back towards town. "I bid thee a safe journey, and come back soon so you can pay for your tabs."

They nodded to her and the two horses marched from town. Blackrose gave Kite a sympathetic look and he gave a bitter laugh. "I honestly like you better when you insult me."

She responded with a horrible look and returned to staring out at the horizon. The cathedral was visible on the left-hand horizon. Kite let his cerulean gaze linger on it, remembering Balmung's final words to the twosome. He returned to Blackrose, about to ask her what she had been about to tell him before the legendary warrior had appeared but she cut him off.

"We go to the west right? I passed the desert on my way to Mac Anu," said Blackrose stiffly, tugging at the collar of her cloak.

"Well then, you must know the way pretty well then. You lead."

She straightened, pleased to be given the chance to command someone. He honestly didn't care very much, interested more in dwelling on the past few days. He could picture the ghostly girl's face clearly and it made him shake in fear. She had seemed so . . . well; her actual emotion was hard to place. It was a mix of terror and a constant grieving sadness. Her eyes had born an emotionless appearance; it was her face that revealed her feelings.

Stories of old spoke of a shadowed girl who quested for her homeland. His father had always dismissed them as just that – stories – but now he could believe just about anything. Staring out on the horizon, he spoke to Blackrose without actually looking at her.

"Could you describe the islands to me? I've grown up inside the empire; what's it like outside imperial control?" Blackrose blinked in confusion but spoke pleasantly, for a change.

"Queen Delilah rules the archipelago. Only women have ever ruled the islands. My mother was the queen's seamstress, my father . . . my father was a Wavemaster who committed suicide when my little brother was born fourteen years ago."

He gave her a shocked and saddened look. "I'm sorry," he said softly.

"It was years ago, nothing special. His magic was too strong for him and he couldn't think straight anymore. Got abusive and stuff. After his death, my mother joined the queen's army. She's currently one of the lieutenants. My brother . . ." her voice trailed off a little then she shook her head before continuing, "My brother is a Wavemaster, as all the men on the island are. My mother trained me for a soldier."

"Then what are you doing on the mainland?" he asked curiously, "Some sort of training?"

"Can't I be here for a visit?" she snapped, "Now tell me about you and your family."

"My father, Hyrakkidouran Raikoumaru, was known as the King of Bandits. My mother was his queen."

She turned, wide eyed, at him where as Kite smiled wryly, eyes twinkling in the sunshine. "Yeah, I'm a bit of a thief myself. I'm like a magpie, something shinny appears and I have to get it."

"A royal soldier and a lowlife thief, funny," she said mirthlessly. He raised an eyebrow but continued his story. "They died from an epidemic up in Lambda, probably a good thing too. My father was losing his famed agility and was about to turn the bandit tribe over to me."

"So, technically you're the leader of this bandit 'tribe'?" she asked, a thin, bitter smile on her lips.

"Technically, yes," he said darkly, "I would still be in Lambda if my brat of a cousin, two years my senior, decided she was the real leader of the tribe. Since she has the same surname as me and the tribe's laws states that the ELDEST Raikoumaru takes control of the Crimson Deaths, she's in charge now. Apparently, I have to prove myself before I'm welcomed back there."

She nodded, seemingly understanding his predicament. "A bitch, ain't she? What's her name?"

"Bell, and don't ever let her catch you calling her that." Blackrose laughed darkly, shaking her head.

"I could outmatch some little thief any day. Especially a mainlander." This time it was a joke. He raised an eyebrow at her and chuckled lightly. "I'll remind myself to tell Bell that, after she's done beheading you."

"Your family greatly interests me. Your mother, what kind of woman was she?"

A small smile lit Kite's face at the memory of his mother. "She was . . . an odd woman. A moment she'd be as sweet as honey and the next minute, she's the bear who hunts the honey. She had a fiendish for precious jewels; our hideout was filled with jewelry she stole. Her favorite target was imperial dukes." He chuckled slightly, "They had the worst security in existence. Arrogance probably, thinking nobody would dare rob the king's dogs." Blackrose laughed at the joke.

"Well, how about your father? Any siblings?"

"Curious, aren't you? I'm an only child, and Bell's the last of my family. I had an Aunt Kayla who died in a fishing accident when I was twelve and Uncle Shin was hanged for robbery when I was thirteen. My father, well, he was too serious, in many aspects. He almost never smiled, unless you actually got a job done very successfully. You know, nobody saw you, got extra stuff, ect. He didn't think magic was any use in life."

"You can't use magic?" she asked, shocked for a moment. It seemed she was unused to hearing that any man couldn't perform spells, since all her male kin could. He flushed angrily but bit back an insult. "No, Hyrakkidouran thought it useless, flashy and only good for a show."

"I could teach you a little bit of magic."

"In return for . . .?" She gave him a hard look, sitting up straighter in the saddle.

"Do I need a reason for teaching battle help?"

He laughed openly, savoring the pleasure for a moment. Although it had only been four days since the incident with the demon and the girl, it felt like an age at least. She raised an eyebrow at him but a thin smile cracked across her stern, tan face.

"Fine, fine, in return, you teach me about the mainland customs."

"Agreed."

* * *

I do not own .hack, Bandai does. I own the gist of this story.

Please review.


	6. Chasing the Girl

* * *

Chasing the Girl

* * *

The Sea of Sand was a desert wasteland in the heart of Delta, three days ride from Mac Anu if you rode without rest, six if you did. Here not many survived the scorching sun and the bloodthirsty monsters that made their home in the numerous sandstorms. The first thing Kite noted was the lack of these monsters, though there was an insane large number of carcasses piled on the sand hills, giving the humid air the smell of decomposing flesh. There was a fair few human cadavers as well, though not nearly enough to out number the monsters.

"Pleasant," said Blackrose sarcastically, her hand pressed against her mouth and nose to block out the horrid smell.

"It's got to be that plague Balmung mentioned," said Kite, feeling like he was going to be sick, "Except these monsters seemed to have . . . not adapted well to the virus." Whilst Blackrose was cool with her meager amount of clothing, Kite's clothing had little protection against the heat. His head swam, threatening for him to collapse. Snowfall was little better, the heavy breathing of the stallion matching that of its rider.

Blackrose's red eyes flickered towards the thief. She alone seemed immune to the unforgiving heat. "I'm guessing Lambda's very cool, with all those forests."

"We have our fair share of desert land, though it's far away from Carmina Gadelica."

She eyed him warily. "As a . . . thief, I'm guessing you haven't ventured far from that city, have you?"

"I've been to Delta before, when I was about eleven. My mother had it in mind to steal the Opal of Krake. She told me to look for anything of interest. Well, I found one of the Descendents of Fianna."

Blackrose blinked, puzzled. "Fianna?" He looked at her strangely. "You know, Fianna, the Queen of Peace. She sealed away the four demons and her two apprentices were Orca of the Azure Sea, and Balmung of the Azure Sky."

"And you know one of them?"

"Yeah, Orca. He helped me escape from a group of soldiers after taking a Black Magic book. This was before he became world-famous, just well known as one of the great lady's apprentices. He was really shocked when he found out I was a member of the Crimson Deaths." He laughed and Blackrose smiled slightly, though both had to avert their gaze and shield their mouths and noses from a Deadly Moth's carcass. The large insect's gossamer wings gave off a pale yellow poison that was almost indistinguishable from pollen. The moth used that poison to immobilize its pray in feeding, and when the creature was dead, that poison's smell made rotten eggs and half decomposed flesh smell like cake.

As soon as they pass over a hill, they spotted a group of people on horseback across the sand. All wore similar clothing, light cloth and turbans. Wicked looking falchions were at their sides and what appeared to be the leader of the group, a tall man with a scarf around his mouth and glittering coffee colored eyes, turned towards them and rode up.

"You there!" cried the leader, his eyes blazing and a hand moving towards his sword. His accent revealed that he was of the Desert Clan, one of the few nomadic tribes who still worshiped the pagan gods; a thick, molasses of a voice really. Blackrose's hand moved towards her own sword but Kite shot her a warning look before speaking.

"We are not of Ito's men; we come seeking a dungeon where a white girl was spotted."

The man chuckled and removed his scarf, revealing a firmly detailed face with skin the color of a pecan shell and a square jaw. Black markings were below his eyes, giving him a mystical, shaman-type look. "You'd be the second and third people we sent there," he said with a deep laugh, "What be your reason?"

"Our reason is our own," snapped Blackrose, not removing her hand from the sword's golden hilt.

"Ah, you be this young man's wife?" asked the pagan, eyes sparkling in the rich sunlight. Both flushed red and the islander violently shook her head. The man pointed down into a canyon where it appeared a large, man made creature sat, and its mouth open. It had the vague shape of a dragon, its sides actually moving as it breathed, even though the outsides were actually made of stone scales. Kite felt his stomach churn, starring at one of the many creatures brought to life by Wavemaster magic.

"You're kidding me, right?" asked Blackrose, turning to the man, who laughed again.

"That is Yarthkin's Tomb, the resting place of our lord's demonic pet. I bide thee a safe journey, for you may encounter Ito's servant. May the sand bring you shelter in the storms of night." He turned to his party and gave a yell of something in his language before tying his scarf back in place. They were off in a blaze of sand.

Blackrose gave a furious sigh and turned to Kite, who was more disturbed by the news of the king's men inside. Perhaps they were searching for the girl as well? "Merrows help us . . ." He gave her a look with a raised eyebrow.

"You're pagan?" he asked, surprised slightly. It was not as though he were prejudice against them, it was just he had never been in close contact with one who did not believe in the Twilight Dragon.

"The mainlanders beliefs is sacrilegious to the Gods," she said bitterly. He did not answer her and she continued. "I mean, when you look at the mainlanders religion . . . who ever heard of sprites being destroyed? We are superior over humans."

Kite bit his tongue to fight back an insult. The heat was near unbearable and he was eager to get inside that cave, even if it meant enduring Blackrose snap about humans and mainlanders. Digging his heels into Snowfall's flank, the tired stallion trotted off in the direction of the tomb.

The inside was pleasantly cool, though disgusting. The mouth of the creature, the room they had just entered, was covered in saliva and its stationery tongue was unpleasantly rubbery. It was a good thing there was no smell, however. With a pleased sigh, Kite tied Snowfall's reigns to one of the ivory spikes inside. What surprised them was the presence of a third horse, its coat white like Snowfall's, though its eyes were a strange golden-blue. It was of Simga origin, clearly told from the embroidery on the saddle blanket tossed upon its back and its eyes. It neighed loudly, glaring at them as they tied Woodfall and Snowfall to the spike. Their water supply, replenished by Blackrose's magic, was enough to keep the horses fit.

The horses were tough, but not enough to stand the outrageous heat. Orca's Theta stallion gave a heavy snort, pleased to get out from the heat. Blackrose muttered something in her language to Woodfall, and the horse instantly quieted. He saw, with further flush, that her tan body glistened with sweat, making her seem less modest. She unsheathed her broadsword her eyes flickered to the corner of the room.

"By the Gods . . ." Three guards lay slumped on the ground, their faces blistered beyond recognition by electrical burns. Their bodies gave no smell at a distance, as one would expect, but at closer range their burned flesh made his stomach retreat into his throat and made Blackrose spill hers in the corner. For a warrioress with magical skills, she had a weak stomach.

"You okay?" he asked softly when she got back to her feet, the color in her face receding in blotches. She narrowed her eyes and did not respond after a while. Her voice was hoarse when she did speak, leaning on her sword like one would do with a cane. "Let's get this over with; this place gives me the creeps."

He nodded gently and drew a dagger from the scabbard at his side. They walked down a flight of stairs, which was fashioned from the creature's throat. It was eerie, to think of such things, but they went onwards. Three rooms from the stairs, a pair of yellow eyes peered from a dark corner and their owner lunged for Blackrose. The monster had a vague man-like shape with pale skin, dark gray hair that defied gravity and a face marked with a sprite's designs, its body clad in indigo and golden armor. One hand clutched a short sword, the other clasped around a shield. It was distinguishable as a monster by the wickedly sharp, goat-like horns on its head and its blood red eyes.

She screeched like a banshee and swung her sword in a high arch. It missed the Swordmanoid by a mile, Kite's cheek by an inch. He withdrew his second dagger and dug it into a break in the creature's armor. Black blood dribbled down the plates and Blackrose raised a hand, her face scared and her hand trembling. A pentacle appeared in the air in front of her as she cried, "Vak Rom!"

He had to dodge a tornado of flames that consumed the monster. It let out a screech of pain and collapsed on the ground, the flesh burned and the body covered in the ebony blood. Blackrose was breathing heavily and her wine colored eyes were glossy with tears. Pulling his dagger from the Swordmanoid's back, he turned back to Blackrose. "Are you okay?"

"I'm sorry," she said in a whisper, "I should have told you."

"Told me what?" Her gaze lost its sorrowful quality and she clicked her tongue against her teeth. "You are dense, boy! You didn't see me wimp out?"

"It scared you, so what? Everyone gets scared once and a while."

"No, it's . . . I'm not a master swordswoman. I was an apprentice back home."

"Then why'd you lie?" he asked softly. In true, he had suspected it from the beginning. Why would a master swordswoman need a bodyguard to accompany her to a cathedral? It didn't make sense.

Her glare silenced him, but when she spoke, her voice sounded gentle. "You're not mad?"

"Not really, I'm used to liars. I'm a thief, remember?" She smiled slightly. The next few rooms were deserted of life, though there were numerous empty eggshells littering the flesh. It was disgustingly eerie.

A little further down, they came across a delicately carved treasure chest placed between two serpentine dragon statues. Kite's eyes glittered, he could practically smell the treasure inside. "Hang on a second," he said to Blackrose, and her eyes narrowed slightly. She clearly did not like having to wait for a thief.

Shifting both his daggers into his left hand, he kicked the chest open. The inside was clean and inside were about a half dozen, fist sized bottles filled with a thick, crimson liquid. His eyes brightened. "Excellent! Burning Oil," he said with a grin

"Please, you're impressed by this?" She said, watching as he shut the trunk and proceeded to drag it with them. The contents were not heavy at all, but the trunk was mildly heavy. It was a good thing that they were nearing the belly of the beast, for the air was thicker and the saliva heavier.

More monsters were in the bottom chambers, including living Deadly Moths. They were large, dragonfly like beings and their abdomens were colored purple, black and yellow. Three ambushed the twosome, their poison hovering like clouds in the air. Holding his breath and leaving the trunk aside, he flung his dagger into one's wing, crippling it. Its black blood fell to the floor. Though it lacked a mouth, its body writhed in pain and a cloud of its poison fluttered around his mouth.

Having to breathe through his nose, he inhaled a fair amount. Coughing and sneezing horribly, he tried furiously to get out the powder. Blackrose's sword cut the head of a second and she flung the sword downward towards the final. It missed and its claw hit her exposed stomach. It cut through the flesh, drawing blood. She cried out the fire tornado's spell again and its thin flesh crumbled to ash instantly. Hacking horribly, he flung his dagger into the head of the Deadly Mouth and it fell to the ground, dead in a second.

Her hand pressed to her mouth due to the poison, she turned to him. "Merrows, you inhaled that crap?" she snapped, "Idiot!"

He scowled. "Not my choice." His head was swimming as the poison worked its toxin in his lungs. White dots were at the edges of his vision, leaving the ominous threat that he would fall unconscious again. She held her hand towards his head and whispered, "Rip Teyn."

His mind returned to normal, as did his breathing. "Thank you." He said, grabbing the trunk. "There's only a few rooms left, I think, if this isn't the last."

She ignored him for a moment before speaking, and that was a healing spell that mended the wound on her stomach. Taking a firmer grip on her sword, they walked along the hall of the creature. The floor was getting slicker, the walls dripping with saliva. Sliding down a set of stairs, their eyes met a strange and unwanted sight.

A chamber entrance was marked by strange purple gas. It hovered around the door like fire, but it gave off neither heat nor smell. Letting go of the trunk, he felt his heart churn. Something was behind that door, and he had a feeling it may be the pale girl. A flicker of pain was at the wrist where the glass bracelet had appeared and he gave a grimace. Was this a sign from the ghostly girl in white? Blackrose was walking towards the entrance and he followed.

The room was devoid of moisture, the fleshy walls a dull gray. Peeling bits revealed the creature's mussel system, some parts so thin the gray bone was visible. A monster was inside the lifeless room, exactly the same as the one that dwelt within the cathedral. The Headhunter turned its headless body towards them and it moved, scales clinking like armor.

"Vak Rom!" bellowed Blackrose and her magical flames did nothing to the creature. Kite ran forward, his twin daggers ready. "Saber Dance!" Although the Crimson Deaths did not use magic, physical attacks were high in demand.

The slashing blades merely scratched the creature's scales and even then the scratches instantly healed. "Twilight Dragon help us . . ." The memory of the impossible creature flashed inside his head, and Balmung's ominous threat still lingered in the still air. Grinding his teeth, Kite drove one dagger into the Headhunter's skull, which was clasped in its hand.

If this being were anything similar to the Headless Kings and Headhunt Lords of Lambda, the skulls within their hands gave them dark power. However, the Headhunter turned simply to Kite and with a sweep of its sword, knocked the thief backwards. He hit the ground painfully, one dagger sliding away. Blackrose ran forward, swinging her sword viciously and her face was livid. It clanged against the scales of the monster, who flung its sword across her stomach, where the Deadly Moth had so recently sliced her. The blade bit deep into her skin and she screamed, tears filling her eyes in instants. "Reapth," she sobbed, the wound healing somewhat and she flung the blade again, creating an echoing clang.

Kite got to his feet shakily. He tasted blood in his mouth and he hurried forward to pick up his dropped blade. His attention turned to the Headhunter and, darting forward, he tried to slide his blade in between the scales. The Headhunter's sightless gaze turned back to him and its blade nearly cleaved his head off. With years of agility born from stealing, Kite missed and managed to dig his blade through two scales. The creature did not even move, but its attention was completely onto Kite so that it could not dodge the tornado of fire Blackrose summoned. It finally flinched and something green spread across its body. It was like another layer of scales had appeared over the Headhunter and then suddenly shattered, falling to the ground and disappearing.

Kite felt pain rise up in his arm as the bracelet appeared on his wrist with the sound of cracking bone. There was a white light that blinded his vision and the pain intensified, his body moving on its own. Squinting through the light, he saw that the Headhunter was being eaten away by some unseen force. Finally, he heard his own voice yell something, though he made to say not a word. "Soul Drain!"

There was more pain that laced its way through his body. Power ran through his mussel system and escaped in beam form from his palm. It hit the creature and the Headhunter fell backwards. The light vanished and he fell to his knees, the bracelet flickering and disappearing from his wrist.

Something was clutched in his hand and, as he pulled it open, saw that a small object lay in his palm. It was circular and perfectly clear, inscribed with the character for the letter 'C', near identical to the small item Kite had gotten from the Headhunter's soul in the cathedral. He pocketed the strange object and stood.

Blackrose run forward, focusing her fire magic though her sword so the broadsword became alight with flickering flames. She thrust it forwards, right through the creature's stomach and it crumpled as the flames upon her sword died. She wrenched it free from the creature's body and looked over to Kite.

"You alright?" He nodded, head swimming slightly. "Just a little light headed," he confessed, turning to the Headhunter and wrenching his daggers from it. They were free of blood, which disturbed him. The silence was broken by a shrill female voice; a voice that he thought could have shattered glass had it been any higher pitched.

"Wow, that was amazing!"

Both sets of eyes, one red and the other blue, turned towards the entrance of the room and fell upon a young woman of about nineteen or so. Her hair was pink, like Blackrose's, but whilst the swordswoman's hair was pale, petal pink, this girl's was darker, her eyes a mix of red and pink. Her head was hidden under a large, white, gold and blue hat with long tassels off of the sides. She wore clothing of pale blue and white, a pair of baggy pants and a long sleeved shirt under a shawl. Her feet were clad in odd slippers, her hands gloved in black. Her shirt had a high color, bright gold ribbon tied around her waist. Clutched in her hand was a long, golden staff with a horizontal ring at the tip, attached to that was a vertical design with an ornate, magical seal inside. Her face was round and joyful, eyes glimmering brightly.

Now that he thought of it, her voice sounded like it had a Sigma accent, though it was very faint. Her grin widened as she hurried towards them, tripping over her foot once. She laughed loudly, rubbing the back of her head. "Whoops, I'm a little clumsy!"

"Who are you?" asked Blackrose darkly. The mysterious woman, or Wavemaster as he could tell by her staff, smiled even wider and she tipped her hat. "The name's Mistral, relic hunting my game! I'm a collector of sorts."

"A thief?" asked Blackrose, eyeing Kite. Mistral laughed louder. "Nope, nope, nope! I collect items, not steal them. Stealing is dishonest!"

Now her cheery eyes flickered towards Kite. "I can't believe that skill of yours! You defeated that monster by stealing its soul! My teacher never mentioned ANYTHING like that!"

"It's difficult to explain," he said with a sigh. She grinned even wider. "That's no problem, no problem at all! Mistral the Hunter has all the time in the world! Hey, you are travelers, aren't you?"

Kite could see a vein flickering in Blackrose's temple, her teeth grit. Kite placed a hand on her shoulder in the vain attempt to calm her down. She shrugged off his touch. "Yes, I suppose we are," said Blackrose coldly. Mistral was unfazed, in fact she twirled her staff dramatically and slammed the bottom of the staff on the ground.

"Then a Wavemaster's magic will be helpful! I will accompany you from this day forth!"

"Any reason?" asked Kite and she giggled. "Better to travel in a pack then alone! I'd be nice to be with people like you!"

He smiled. "Thank you, Mistral, but would you like to accompany a thief from a Lambda bandit tribe?"

Her expression faltered for a second but she hitched it back. "A member of the Crimson Death's?" He nodded. "Wow! You MUST be skilled! You know what they say, where there's a thief, there's treasure!" Although he'd never heard the saying before, he nodded his head. Her eyes glimmered happily as if Kite had made all her dreams come true at once. He laughed, though Blackrose did not.

Mistral followed them, continually insisting Kite tell her about the bracelet. Wishing he had a choice not to, he did explain and her face brightened even more. "Wow, wow! That must be some girl! She must be a messenger of the Twilight Dragon! You know, a prophet or even a physical embodiment!" Mistral squealed loudly and excitedly.

He was not the firmest follower of religion, so he honestly didn't believe in that. Blackrose's gaze flickered back to Kite. "Who knows, maybe the Wavemaster's correct. She could be a cleric, or even a demi-goddess."

The further rooms of the dungeon were as bleak and decomposed as the Headhunter's layer. Even worse did the smell come that Mistral waved her hand in front of her face, trying to swat the smell away. "Phew! Smells like-"

"Something died," supplied Blackrose lamely, sword swung over her shoulder. The final chamber of the dungeon contained a chest in front of a hovering statue, this one of a woman surrounded by a star. Mistral ran forward and heaved the chest open. "Success! Mistral the Hunter's treasure sniffing ability never fails!"

From the chest she pulled out a yellow bandana, embroidered in black thread was a wild cat, probably a cougar. Surrounding it were arcane symbols of magic. Also she held a small icon, shaped a Grunty, made of iron and also in her hand was a sheet of yellow metal. "These'll fetch a wonderful price! Ol' Mistral will make us all rich, rich, rich!"

Kite smiled, though Blackrose scowled. They made their way back from the dungeon, Mistral clutching her treasure tightly and Kite dragging his trunk of Burning Oil. Blackrose looked disgusted with the two of them.

Back in the entrance chamber, Mistral pointed out the soldiers' dead bodies. "The king's men get worse and worse! They tried to harass me! But I took care of them, alright!" It seemed disturbing that she'd prided herself upon their gruesome deaths and neither Blackrose nor Kite merited that with a response.

While he emptied the contents of the trunk into Snowfall's saddlebag, Mistral moved towards the unknown horse. "Isn't she pretty?" asked the red haired Wavemaster, "The name's Psi! She's Sigma breed, and a parting gift from my master!"

"Snowfall's from Theta," said Kite simply, stroking Snowfall's white mane. Mistral's eyes went wide as the stallion tossed its head back proudly. "WOW! How much did she cost!"

"He, and he's a friend's. I'm just borrowing him for a while."

"Or did you steal him?" asked Mistral slyly. Kite's stomach squirmed. "No, borrowing," he said clearly, "The Crimson Deaths don't steal animals."

"How humane! It seems thieves do have morals!"

"Twisted ones," muttered Blackrose but only Kite seemed to catch it. He grinned at her.

Mistral climbed onto Psi's saddle, her staff slipped into a holster near the bridle, and Blackrose did similar to Woodfall. With the three ready, they road off, Kite's mind reflecting on the sadness he felt that the girl was not there.

* * *

The Dark Flame tavern was empty again, and Alicia was angrily counting the meager amount of gold pieces she had received for the day's service. In a few days, the taxman would come and she didn't have enough to pay the cost of keeping the inn alive. Running her fingers through her silky hair, she picked up the bottle of rum she had been drinking from and took a swig.

"That's going to kill your health." She jumped, spitting out the alcohol and turning towards the door. It had opened without sound, revealing three travel worn people. Kite and Blackrose where there, along with a white and blue clad woman clutching a golden staff. Blackrose looked ready to wrench out her hair, which was filled with sand, her eyes slightly bloodshot and irritated. Her armor creaked horribly when she moved, sand clearly caught in the pieces despite her cloak. Kite and the mysterious woman were similar, though wearing a hat had certainly kept out the sand. The woman's grin fled her cheery face.

"Depressed much?" she asked calmly.

Alicia's gaze narrowed. "Who are you?" demanded the barmaid, scooting over towards her sword.

"Mistral the Treasure Hunter, at your service!" Her mad grin was back in place. Kite elaborated. "She's a friend of ours." Alicia gave a thin lipped smile, leaning her elbow on the bar. "Bad news, I need money and I need it fast. Sorry kid, you need to give me your rent."

Mistral hurried towards Alicia and from an inner pocket of her robes pulled out a fat money sack. Emptying it on the counter, Alicia's blue gaze widened quickly as Mistral, smiling, said, "How much?" Mistral was filthy rich, the large pile at least ten times the size Kite carried. It was almost suicide to carry around that much money, but the Wavemaster appeared to have a ton of confidence that she would not be robbed.

Kite smiled, even Blackrose forced a grin. As Mistral counted out the money for their rent, Alicia picked up something from under the bar. "By the way, Kite, this arrived for you this morning." She held out a letter sealed together by white wax and an emblem of a curved serpent. "A man in black. He had a whimsical speech, called himself Bith."

Breaking open the letter, he scanned it quickly and his eyes widened. "What is it?" asked Blackrose, Mistral and Alicia leaning over.

"It's from someone named Helba," he said slowly, "And, she knows about my bracelet."

* * *

I do not own .hack, Bandai does. I own the gist of this story.

Please review.


	7. Knight in Green Armor

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Knight in Green Armor

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_The scene before his eyes was blank and empty, but dramatic in its own right. The endless sky above him constantly shifted between the dark of night, the light of day and the hazy grey of dawn. The weather was ever changing so that in a second the rain would turn to snow, then the snow would melt as the sun emerged and then the winds would pick up as the sudden night flared into existence._

_Kite's blue eyes flickered around this empty land, gripping the hilts of his daggers so tightly he felt the metal through the leather of his gloves. His body moved upon its own accord, his mind only dimly aware of where he was. The darkness was lifting again and snow began to fall. A soft voice, speaking in a language not known to the continent in its present day, was drifting across the now still air. He recognized the gentle, yet melancholic, dialect as belonging to the phantom girl in white._

_He turned around, his eyes falling upon her small form, which was still hovering in the air. The sudden snow clung to her white hair, and her now visible arms were held to her heart. She appeared to be singing softly, her eyes closed as silent tears dribbled down her albino pale cheeks. Her dress with the rainbow hem floated around her thin body and she took no notice of his presence, simply singing her sad song. If he had to place it in a genre, he would have called it a requiem._

_He moved closer to her and asked a question that had been eating at his insides ever since he had first seen her. Who are you?' The girl's song died suddenly in her throat, her mouth still agape and, slowly, her blue eyes opened. They seemed to pierce the marrow in his bones and all he could do was stare within her irises. There was silence for a long time, and the snow was replaced with it a maelstrom of wind and rain. _

_Finally the girl spoke, but it was not in a language he knew. It was the same tongue she sang in; her words were smooth and sounded like silk morphed into words. He couldn't tell where one word ended and the second began. Her voice died away at the end of her message and her eyes closed again, more tears dripping down her face, though they were impossible to distinguish from the droplets of rain on her cheeks. _

'_What do you mean!' he yelled. One had to strain to hear his voice because of the howling winds. He knew she could speak in the common tongue, she did so to Orca. The girl's eyes fluttered open, her words soft but distinguishable._

'_To the one who holds the book, Skeith is looking for me. There is no time. Please. Help me.'_

'_Skeith? That monster with the wand?' he yelled back but her form was beginning to dissolve her face and body fading into the shadows. 'NO! Tell me your name!'_

_A single word fluttered into existence, but it was again in her silken tongue. It did, however, have a similar sound to a word in the common language for the continent's inhabitants. Completely gone, Kite could only stare at where the girl's face had once been._

'_Aura, is that your name?' he whispered, still staring at where her face had been moments ago._

_The scene flickered and changed, shadows morphed into figures and objects. Where there was once a field, there was now a stone dungeon. People were crowed inside, the majority of them dagger wielders, though there was one or two men with long blades and an even smaller minority with axes or lances. They all stood on the tips of their toes to see the center of the room. Kite knew, by the excited faces of the majority of the Crimson Deaths, that they wanted him gone. A female leader like Bell was easier to manipulate and control then a leader like himself. A few smiling faces looked out at him, but their eyes were masked by vain hope, their smiles those of sympathy rather then true mirth._

_In the center of the room was a woman, tan-skinned, somewhere between the ages fifteen and seventeen. Her viridian hair was pulled into a knot at the back of her head, her lavender eyes flashing in a horrible happiness. She had an indigo crescent moon through her left eye, long knives with elaborate hilts strapped to her thighs. Her clothing consisted of a pair of formfitting shorts, a long sleeved shirt with bell-like sleeves that hid her short fingers. Her long boots were made with a slick material recognized as wyrm hide and came up to her kneecaps. She was looking at him with smug, almost malicious pleasure, hands on her hips. She did not exactly have good looks, more or less a commanding air of superiority and demanding respect, and her origins clearly of Omega. One could not relate her to Hyrakkidouran Raikoumaru, despite her being his brother's daughter._

'_My, my, you think you can take my title as the new Crimson Raid?' she sneered, tossing back a few loose strands of her green hair. Her voice was high, and annoying, rather like nails scratching across asphalt. It made his skin crawl. 'You threaten to take MY title, little cousin?' She placed a strong emphasis on 'little', her sneer stretching ever more._

_Kite scowled, though he was held back by two more bandits. Both were grinning stupidly at him, their yellow teeth pulled back in dog-like snarls. Their grips were outrageously tight, as he was beginning to lose feeling in his fingertips. 'You are not at liberty to take that title, Bell. I am his son, while you are his niece. You don't even look like him.'_

_Bell winced slightly, flickering at the few people behind her who nodded encouragingly. The damn traitors, they had been amongst Hyrakkidouran's inner circle before he died. Her sneer returned quite quickly, as did the cruel tone in her screechy voice. 'You are incorrect, I am the eldest Raikoumaru_ _at age sixteen, and you are a wee fourteen years. You no longer have any authority.'_

_'He does make a point, Miz. Bell,' said one of the few long blade users, a tall man of about twenty with short green hair, though his long bangs clouded vivid green eyes. A rune with the form of a twisted G was plastered upon his cheek, a kantana scabbard at his belt. Kite knew him well, a childhood friend named Zeik. 'Sir Hyrakkidouran left it perfectly clear that he wanted Mr. Kite to succeed him.'_

_Bell turned her narrowed eyes to the man, breathing like a wounded animal, teeth clenched. 'What the hell do you know!' Zeik, unable to publicly challenge her without suffering death, fell silent. He did, however mouth 'I tried' to Kite, who gave him a small smile. Bell turned to Kite, trying to imitate her usual sneer but failing to do so. 'If you can prove yourself worthy to me and this tribe, I will renounce my rightful title. You have one year, and if you fail,' her lips twisted horribly, 'Death shall come to you if you ever interfere with the work of the Crimson Deaths.'_

_Kite's normally subdued temper flared suddenly, but he took two deep breaths and spoke in a voice that was forced to sound calm. 'Fine, I will prove my worth. You will not usurp my father's throne, pickpocket.' Bell gave a roar that did not suit a woman, or a sprite for that matter, and wrenched one of her twin daggers from its sheath, flinging it towards him. He closed his eyes and prepared to duck – _

"Get up!"

Kite's eyes snapped open as his body hit the wood floor of his room in the Dark Flame with a crash. Blinking rapidly to clear the last traces of sleep from his vision, he stared blearily up into Blackrose's grinning face. He'd gotten used to her early morning activities, but he'd thought (or rather, prayed) she'd let him sleep today. It was the first time he'd been able to sleep in a real bed, rather than on a sleeping mat and his neck was very stiff. It seemed not the case, though it had snapped into a more comfortable position when he had fallen.

She was in a happy mood, glad to get the grit from the desert off of her body and out of her hair. Dressed in full armor (which apparently had been scrubbed clean of sand and soil since it no longer creaked), her sword scabbard was the sole missing item from her usual appearance. Sitting up and rubbing his eyes, he looked at the window. The grey light that signaled the coming of dawn was visible, creeping over the flat and even roofs of Mac Anu's buildings.

"Lazy boy, get up!" she said cheerfully, sitting down cross-legged on his bed and grinning down at him. The faint sunlight made her eyes twinkle mischievously. He glared darkly, standing and rubbing his eyes.

"How can you be active this early?" he grumbled and she laughed openly. "I've been up for a long time, so has Alicia. Mistral's downstairs," she scowled, as though the memory of the ever hyper Wavemaster were a blemish on her brain, "Trying to sleep some more. Are all mainlanders this lazy?"

"Don't stereotype," he said. The islander's wine-hued eyes stared daggers into his face, though it was not her usual bossy stare.

"It's not a stereotype if its true, now, is it?" He didn't dare argue back, it was too early and he was far too tired. Blackrose grabbed his arm in a surprisingly tight grip, forcing him down the stairs and into the main room of the pub.

Alicia was sitting on the bar, eating a plate of ham and fried eggs. Her hair was twisted into a knot at the back of her head and held there by chopsticks carved from some sort of purple-white shell. The tables all set and ready for the few others who had rented rooms in the tavern and Mistral was at one table, her arms crossed and head resting on them. The outer layer of her robes was gone, her odd hat flopping over her closed eyelids and smalls snore came from under it. Kite sat down next to her and prodded the Wavemaster awake. Mistral gave a grunting snort and her head shot up. She yawned widely and laid her head back down, mumbling "A few more minutes, Master Lamington . . ."

Alicia's smiling face turned to Kite and the barmaid got down, a white skirt fluttering around her slender legs. "Well, you hungry? I can make some more eggs. My cook hasn't arrived yet, so they aren't the usual standard."

"That sounds nice."

She tore out a chunk of her ham and moved towards the back. For all her good looks, Alicia had horrible table manners. Blackrose sat at the table as well, crossing her legs on the table with the chair propped back on its hind legs. Her arms were crossed behind her head and she spoke to the ceiling, rather than her two sleepy companions.

"Well, do you have any other leads on that monster? The one that put your friend, you know . . ." She needn't continue.

Kite's head jerked up and he tried to focus in on Blackrose's face. "Its name is Skeith."

"Pardon?"

"The monster, its name is Skeith." His head fell onto the wooden tabletop as soon as Blackrose began to reply with her voice confused. "Isn't that the name on that plaque, you know, in the cathedral with that statue?"

He gave a sleepy nod, eyes drooping shut. Blackrose scowled and flicked his forehead. "Wake up!"

"Unlike you, I'm not a morning person," he grumbled into the table's surface. Blackrose didn't hear him, but he heard her feet hit the ground and the chair scrape against the floor. "What monster is it that it is in a holy building?"

Her yelling voice snapped the last traces of drowsiness from his mind and he stared at her face, though he was still leaning on his arms. "I dunno, maybe some religious figure. That building's a pagan relic, so shouldn't you know?"

"No such monster named Skeith is present amongst my religion," she said dangerously quiet, "On the island, you would be accused of heresy. Perhaps this demon something of your heathen beliefs?" He sighed again.

"I'm no priest, wouldn't know, and would you stop calling us heathens?" he said with a scowl, leaning up.

"I will not deny the truth." Blackrose turned towards the snoring Mistral and flung her open hand on the back of the Wavemaster's head. Mistral's chin hit the table and her eyes snapped open.

"Ow . . . That hurt Blackrose!" she whined, rubbing her chin sleepily. For a woman in her late teenaged years, she wasn't very mature.

"Mistral, do you know of a monster named Skeith, perhaps in mythology?" Mistral blinked rapidly.

"But of course, the Shadow of Death. He sucks life from all, and leaves the lifeless cadavers for the flying scavengers to pick upon. Carnage and disorder follow him like flies follow decay." Mistral yawned widely, and then examined Kite's and Blackrose's shocked looks. "What? You asked."

"Do you know anymore?" Mistral shook her head. "Sorry, I may be a priestess, but I'm still in training. That's all I know." Her eyes drooped again and she laid her head upon the table in sleep again. Kite sighed. With this new revelation of Mistral's, he could only imagine the arguments between her and Blackrose about religion. It made his head hurt thinking about it.

Blackrose opened her mouth to demand more of her but Alicia came bustling back, humming a travel tune and carrying three plates of still smoking ham and eggs. Setting the plates down on their table, Alicia saluted energetically. "Thanks," muttered Kite, lifting his head up to stare at the fresh breakfast. Blackrose grabbed the knife and fork positioned awkwardly at the edge of the plate and slid the egg ontop of the ham, beginning to eat.

"What about this Helba woman? Do you know her, or anything about her?" asked Blackrose through a mouthful of food.

"My father knew her," Kite confessed after a pause, "Business associates, I think."

"So she's a thief?" Kite raised an eyebrow. "That's such a dirty word. Experienced treasure hunters better suit our professional description." Her eyes narrowed and she slammed her knife inches from his hand. It quivered in the table, the egg yolk on it slipping down into the crevices of the wood.

"You were saying?" she asked delicately. He raised an eyebrow but continued speaking in a brisker voice.

"I saw her once, when I was really young. Dressed all in white, with a white staff." He remembered the staff that had been thrown down before Skeith had taken his own soul and hid a shudder, "She's a sort of cleric, though the religion she practices is neither Pagan nor Twilight."

There were two main religions on the continent. The first recorded religion, Element Celeste, was the worship of the elemental gods. Its worshipers, often referred as 'pagans' by the majority of the sprites, were the ancients and architects of the relics of the continent. The second was the religion stated by the empire under King Aperion. As of yet, it had no name, since the majority of the population were worshipers. There was a Holy Book, written by a bishop named Emma several years ago, but only the higher priests and priestesses had access to it. Helba had belonged to neither, instead believing in a goddess named 'Morgan' or something like that, who would bring forth Judgment Day.

"What does she worship, the filth?" The islander's humor was one sided

As the barmaid opened her mouth to speak, the doors of the inn opened, bringing in the biting chill of pre-winter and autumn winds. The man who entered must have been nineteen or less, clad in dark green armor with a red shoulder plate and chain mail gloves. Attached to his back was an axe with a long, staff-like hilt and a broad red-black blade. It vividly reminded Kite of the axe his childhood tormentor used in battle. His face was round, purplish-black hair surrounding his head in a bowlish cut. His eyes were of a similar color, a smile on his face.

"Can I get you a room sir?" asked Alicia, forgetting about them for a second as she moved towards the new arriver.

"Ah, such a pretty face! I was afraid I had walked into the wrong tavern, but you are clearly Alicia of the Dark Flame. I have heard the townsmen call you the Golden-Haired Goddess." He took her hand and kissed it. Alicia gave a girlish giggle and Blackrose rolled her eyes at the spectacle.

"Is that jealousy I see in the eyes of the valiant swordswoman?" Kite asked with a sheepish grin, only to be hit in the back of the head by a scowling Blackrose. Mistral giggled, pushing her hat backwards. The axeman didn't seem to hear them, but rather continued to compliment Alicia.

"I heard from the ears of a fellow artist that this tavern served food that appealed to even the Descendents of Fianna! I knew that there must certainly be a talented chief at hand, and looking at you, my fair lady, I do not deny that fact!" Blackrose's left eye was twitching slightly and picked up her still quivering knife, returning to her meal. Mistral yawned again and stood, rubbing her eyes. "'m gonna go make some tea," she muttered, "Want some? It'll help relieve anxiety and calms the mind."

"I'll pass, thanks," said Kite, head leaning against one arm as he picked at the eggs. The axeman, who had introduced himself as Piros to a still blushing Alicia, turned to Mistral and then to the table where Kite and Blackrose sat. His dark eyes looked from the islander's wine eyes to Kite's cerulean and gave a laugh.

"At last! A sprite with fair eyes to observe my triumph!" Kite nearly chocked on the piece of ham, Blackrose grinning widely. With his armor clanging loudly in the empty room, Piros hurried over to the two and saluted Kite. "Oh he of fair eyes, will you come to the place of the Holy One's Pilgrimage? A monster has harmed my dear friend Haylie, and I wish to vanquish this foe to put her fears to rest!"

Blackrose looked ready to burst out into hysterics, while Kite looked at her pleadingly for help. Turning back to Piros, Kite rubbed the back of his head, struggling for words. "Uh . . . well, I guess so . . ." The axe man gave a cheery laugh and clasped a gauntleted hand upon the thief's shoulder (which felt as though it might have snapped under the weight) and turned from the twosome to order a meal from Alicia. However, the barmaid had gone back to the kitchens to help Mistral with her tea and instead left the tavern, whistling a traveler's tune.

Still wondering what on earth had happened, Kite scowled as Blackrose burst into laughter, hugging her sides. "P-priceless!" she gasped, tears in her eyes. Rolling his eyes to the heavens, Kite pushed her off the chair whereas her laughter stopped and scowl returned. "You'll pay for that!"

Indeed he did, he thought with a scowl, hat back in place to hide his singed hair. Mistral paraded back in the room, holding a ceramic mug with steam pouring from the rim. Alicia followed, looking annoyed and muttering under her breath. "Damn flirt," she hissed, returning to the bar and taking down a bottle of brandy. It was amazing how she could stand the alcohol this early.

"You looked like you were enjoying the attention," said Blackrose, picking up her clear plate. Alicia arched an eyebrow in surprise and snorted in mirthless laughter. "I'm a damn good actor. You think a woman can work in a bar and giggle at every compliment she's given? She'll be forced into marriage with the first drunk guy she sees. Nah let them stew in their own enjoyment, then drop them like a rock."

"That's really cruel Alicia!" said Mistral, looking up from her cold plate of eggs. She merely gave a smirking smile and took a swig of brandy.

The morning went by and the threesome found themselves wandering Mac Anu's marketplace. Mistral was haggling with one man over her two relics whilst Blackrose had brought Kite over to a weapon's display. She was examining a kantana with an edge that looked like it would have rendered flesh to ribbons in instants.

"Like it?" asked the vendor, a squat man with a red beard and the rough hands of a blacksmith, "Pride and joy, the Kikuichimonji. Sharpest sword this side o' the continent."

Kite's attention left the sword while the islander began offering money. Of course, most of it had been from selling his bottles of Burning Oil, which had brought up a very nice price. He looked over towards the relic's appraiser, where Mistral was demanding a price no less then three thousand gold pieces. Walking over, he took the Grunt Idol from Mistral's hands. The appraiser glared at him, long arms crossed over her chest.

"This is in fine shape," he said simply, "No scratches, finely carved from steel with wooden inserts." The appraiser narrowed her golden eyes. "Your point, brat?" she sneered with a voice like Bell's.

He smiled and pointed out the eye sockets, where a dark jewel glittered. "See these? What would you say they were?"

"Pebbles found in a river," snipped the woman, tossing back her orange hair. Kite ran a thumb over them, clearing away dust and a sort of sooty substance. The eyes were instead a vibrant emerald, untouched by age and looking like they were fresh out of a noble's necklace. The woman's hawkish eyes widened and even Mistral raised an eyebrow. "Emerald jewels, at least two thousand gold a piece. Now, that ups the price to at least four grand, correct?"

"I'll give you six thousand for the idol and two thousand for the yellow candy," barked the woman, evidently excited to get her hands on the piece.

"Two fifty for the candy," said Mistral sharply. Muttering angrily, the woman pulled out two sacks of golden coins and threw them at Kite.

"You're a genius!" squeaked Mistral, flinging her arms tightly around Kite's neck, "I've never been able to get a single piece more then what the vendor wanted!"

He chocked, pushing her gently away. "Pay attention to details." At this time Blackrose had finished her bargaining and sported the kantana, which now hung next to her broadsword. "Right, I think we've got enough for this idiot's quest, o He of Fair Eyes," she said with a smirk at Kite.

"The sooner this is over, the better," he muttered darkly, handing the money over to Mistral. She tucked it happily away in her robes, grinning like she'd found the cure to all diseases.

About midday, they left Mac Anu with Blackrose leading atop Woodall. The mare looked especially bad-tempered today, having not rested well enough after the adventure in the Sea of Sand. Phi and Snowfall were better off, both being born of higher breeds.

The place Piros had mentioned was a vast field a good week's away from the city, where clerics of the Twilight Dragon went to retrieve a piece of the Rock Heads that dwelt in the bottom floor of the temple there. Unlike most of Delta's various shrines, the Stone Halls were fairly recent by building status. Mistral was happily singing a Sigma waltz at the top of her voice, a rather repetitive at that, which was doing little to keep the swordswoman's temper down.

"Will you be quiet already?"

"Singing helps pass the time! Rather a short trip then a long one, eh Rosie?" Kite thought Mistral had just signed her own funeral papers from the manic glimmer in Blackrose's eyes. Instead, she simply took a few deep breaths and spoke in a surprisingly calm voice.

"Tell us a little about yourself Mistral. You know, about your master."

This made Mistral smile brightly and push back her floppy hat. "Apprentice to Sigma's most powerful, wise and handsome Wavemaster, Count William der Lamington! He was a master summoner and a brilliant water mage," she cooed, hands clasped together and out of Psi's reigns. "He treated me like a daughter and made sure that everything was wonderful! But he was strict when it came to training, yes sirie! Up at the crack of dawn to meditate! I got kinda lazy when he said my training was complete and stuff." She laughed. "Joined the temple of the Twilight Dragon as a relic hunter, makin' sure that nothing too dangerous was left out in the open for innocents to find!"

'Explain this bracelet then,' thought Kite glumly, looking at his wrist. It had stopped hurting but still felt odd.

"I'm on my own pilgrimage, but I still go back to visit Master Lamington and the countess, Lady Flonne! Yep, they always have everything ready just for me!" She looked very happy at the memory and sat in silence for a while, apparently thinking over her foster family with great pride.

It was dusk and five days later when they reached the Stone Halls Temple, a massive building with obelisks surrounding the doors. Torches lit with yellow fire were perched on either side of the limestone doors which were surprisingly light despite their size. The inside was dark with only a few lights illuminating the path. Mistral touched the bottom of her staff to the ground and the top glowed with a white light, casting the many chambers into shadow. Blackrose had her new Kikuichimonji ready, Kite his twin daggers.

Midway through the first floor, an odd sort of cackling filled the air which made Mistral scream in shock and tread on Kite's foot. He had to duck a blast of wickedly green light so afterwards and spun around to find himself looked at a creature that came only up to his knee. Dressed in a shaman-type arrangement of feathers and a goat skull, a goblin was pointing its crude wand at the threesome with yellow, broken teeth bared in a nasty smile. Mistral held out her staff, a pentacle forming in the air in front of her.

"Rai Don!" she bellowed and slammed her staff against the stone ground. Lightning flickered into existence and struck the Magical Goblin. Although its grey-white flesh was crispy from the electrical burns, it did not die until one of Kite's daggers flung across the room and hit it squarely between the eyes.

"Whoops! Guess it's immune to magic, huh?" she said cheerily as the thief grabbed his weapon from the carcass, shaking off dark blood. Blackrose scowled again. The further they got in the temple, the more and more light seemed to decrease. Even Mistral's staff's light bit poorly against the growing shadows. Blackrose found a bit of wood and lit it with her fire magic, though it burned far too quickly and ended up useless.

Monstrous footfalls sounded from the corner of a large room, complete with jail cell where human bones were piled in corners, the skulls vividly visible. A Headhunter had appeared, as sightless and large in Yarthkin's Tomb, followed by a large dog with a spiked collar and a forked tongue. It looked completely harmless (despite large fangs and deadly claws) until its coat burst into flames.

"Damn it all!" swore Blackrose and swung her new sword against the Headhunter, creating a loud metallic clang painfully horrible in the room. Mistral swung her staff against the Hell Doberman, knocking it backwards a few inches before it bore its massive fangs and leapt towards her. Kite's dagger met its teeth and he kicked it squarely in the chest before it fell back. His boot's sole had melted slightly, adding burnt rubber to the smells in the room. "Vak Rom!" bellowed Blackrose, some of the weaker armor on the Headhunter turning red and melting. However, the dog seemed to only absorb the flames as its mad eyes flickered horridly, glowing with red light.

Kite and Mistral had to dodge the fireballs the monster had summoned and he darted towards the Headhunter, bringing a dagger through the skull in its hand. At once, the head opened its mouth and gave a piercing scream before crumbling to dust. Defenseless, it fell easy to Mistral's lightning spell in combination with the mighty swing of the Kikuichimonji. The Doberman gave no sign of its fellows collapse and bounded towards Blackrose, fangs dripping saliva.

"Saber Dance!" "Rai Don!" Neither attack did anything to harm the dog as much as they would have liked and one of its massive claws caught the exposed part of Blackrose's right arm. Yelling blindly in pain, her sword cut across the dog's eyes, bringing both blood and a jelly-like substance to the floor. Her booted foot collided with the dog's front leg, shattering it with a whine of pain. Kite dug his dagger into the dog's side, piercing at least a lung and Mistral bellowed a second spell, this time with a blue aura. "Rue Zot!" Ice appeared, instantly putting out the Doberman's flames and killing it in a second.

Blackrose whimpered in pain, clutching her bleeding arm. Her healing spell did little to help until Mistral touched it with her wand. "Oh Mighty Twilight Dragon, heal this wound and mend the flesh," she said gently, "La Reapth." The pale blue glow of the magic seeped across the cut, healing it in seconds.

"Thank you."

Mistral laughed as a way of a reply. Withdrawing his dagger, Kite lead both women onward into the depths of the dungeon-like temple. More enemies appeared, though none as vicious as the Hell Doberman.

Deadly Moths and more of the Magical Goblins were the norm, and one other Headhunter that only went down with a flame-edged lightning bolt, curtsey of both Blackrose and Mistral. There was one incident involving Mistral getting poisoned pretty badly from the Deadly Moth's pollen (she was probably allergic to it) and took two Antidotes for her to vomit it out of her system.

The bottom floor brought darkness unmatched by the upper stories. There was a shrine built down below, revealing the slender form of the Twilight Dragon hovering over a gold and crimson chest. The embodiment of the legendary beast was made of pure gold leaves, overlapping each other for the effect of scales, very pale sapphires carved with ebony slits for eyes. Its front arms were also its large wings, fine details revealing veins of the membrane, sharp ivory talons for its claws and the spike ending on its tail. Mistral bowed low to the statue (much to the amusement of Blackrose) and Kite nodded his head in respect for the religious figure.

The islander marched over to the chest and flung the lid open and pulled out a beautiful cloak fastened with golden buttons and made of rich, yet tough dark green material. It had long sleeves that fit tightly to one's arms to constrict accidents (such as the sleeves getting attached to branches and the like) though its long flowing hem was embroidered with noble golden thread. Smugly, Blackrose slipped it on and the magic embedded within it adjusted the cloak to fit her body. Also inside were a second Grunty idol (made of fine sapphire and aquamarine to imitate an Aqua Grunty) and a small card of rainbow colors revealing text of the Holy Book. Mistral grabbed the card and read aloud.

"'Thou art has past thy test. Thou art must retrieve the eye of a Stone Demon to complete thy Holy acceptance as a _Cleric del mezzogiorno'._" Mistral squealed excitedly. "A _Cleric del mezzogiorno! _How wonderful! Master Lamington will be so proud!" Personally, Kite couldn't see how a bit of rock and a parchment card would promote Mistral, but he didn't dare comment. Neither, thankfully, did Blackrose, but she did mumble to him, "She's insane."

The final room was different from the rest of the dungeon, lit brightly by a massive stone chandelier hanging from the ceiling. The main spectacle of the room was the Rock Head. A massive monster constructed entirely from moss-covered boulders, two fist-shaped rocks revolved around it and black eyes make from onyx spheres, were set in a crude face. The large nose was completely rectangular; a diagonal line made its mouth and opened to reveal toothless grey gums and a stationary tongue. Fighting the massive beast was none other then the green-clad Piros, his axe clattering uselessly against the thick, natural armor the Rock Head had.

"Arrgh!" bellowed Piros, "Take this for harming innocent Haylie!"

"What an idiot," muttered Blackrose, "He's going to get seriously hurt and we're going to have to take it down." Mistral had other plans. Intent on gaining the status of that cleric, she hurried towards the Rock Head and summoned forth her ice blocks. The monster turned its blank eyes towards her and hovered over. Blackrose swore in her own tongue and drew her broadsword this time.

"Damn her! Vak Rom!" The tornado of embers did little against it and Kite's dagger merely shattered against the thick coating. Cursing, he tossed away the useless hilt and wished he could do something more useful then this. "Rai Rom!" The lightning this time took the form of a tornado, scratching the surface of the monster this time.

Kite could only watch helplessly as his two friends and Piros chipped uselessly at the Rock Head. Looking at his wrist where the bracelet had appeared, he ground his teeth. "Soul Drain," he said, remembering the words that had spelled end for the Headhunter. Nothing happened. "Damn it!"

He cast an eye over towards Blackrose as she summoned her tornado of flames, looking at her hand movements. Raising his own hands, he cried out the words of the fire spell. However, the words came out slightly different and the effect was tremendous. "OrVak Rom!" The massive amount of fire that appeared burned every inch of moss upon the Rock Head's bulky body and it screeched as the fire torched the core of its being. It collapsed upon the ground, lifeless and unmoving.

Three sets of eyes turned to him, who looked dumbstruck as the result of his chaotic new magic. Mistral broke the silence by running over and hugging him. "KITE! That was AMAZING! I didn't know you were such a talented spellcaster! Such an advanced spell!"

He felt numb for a moment, as well as the lightheaded side-effect of the spell, but he did feel a smile stretch his face. He'd done _magic._ The first of his family in nearly three generations to do such a feat, not since great-grandfather San had accidentally torched his father's chicken coop out of hunger. Piros beamed at him. "He of Fair Eyes! I thank thee for your help in defeating this monster!" He reached inside the breastplate of his armor and pulled out a small scroll with fire-red runes written upon it. "Take this Meteor Strike scroll and my services in battle as a reward for your help."

"Uh, thanks," said Kite numbly, taking the scroll, "We were just going to head back to Mac Anu after this."

"Perfect! I can give the assurance of young Haylie that the monster is dead!" Mistral, as though remembering the words of the Rainbow Card, hurried towards the charred body and wrenched an eye out. Blackrose was glaring at him with narrowed eyes and marched towards him.

"Can't use magic, eh?" she said though clenched teeth, "You nasty little liar!"

Afraid of being at the receiving end of the sword clenched in her hand, he shook his head furiously. "No, not at all! This was an accident!"

"An _accident_!" she yelled, causing Mistral and Piros to turn back and look at her in fright, "Nobody summons that much fire as an accident!"

"I swear by my honor. No Raikoumaru will ever lie, never have, and never will." She looked at his pale eyes and sighed deeply.

"Fine, fine, but I'm going to have to teach you to control your power, you little bandit." She smirked and the group left the dungeon, Mistral happily toting the large onyx eyeball and laughing happily. Six days later, they arrived back at Mac Anu, tired and eager to enjoy cooking other then the Blackrose's special: rabbit burnt to a crisp.

* * *

I do not own .hack, Bandai does. I own the gist of this story.

Please review.


	8. Challenge from a Cat

* * *

Challenge from a Cat

* * *

A rather unpleasant sight met Kite's gaze as he entered Alicia's pub. The blonde barmaid was speaking with a man dressed in imperial garb, looking worried. Blackrose seemed to stiffen next to him, her face paling blotchily. It was only the two of them at the moment. Piros was looking for his friend to 'assure her that the danger was gone' while Mistral was looking for the temple to confirm her promotion in rank.

The inspector – a tall, wiry man with the look of a fox – was making little effort to keep his conversation private. "If you do gain word from Helba or any head of illegal activity, please report it to the guard stationed in the city," spoke the inspector calmly, almost in a monotone, "Your industry appears to be running perfectly fine with no heed of unauthorized activity. Thank you for paying the taxes, Miss. Jinsaran."

Alicia bowed her head in respect as the inspector strode to the door. His beady eyes met Kite's and the inspector's lips seemed to tighten, as if in disgust. The door slammed behind them with a loud snap and the glass panes in the window seemed to rattle. The patrons of the tavern watched the inspector go and seemed greatly relieved now that he was gone.

"What was that about?" asked Blackrose sharply, turning to the still pale Alicia. She was clutching something to her chest, a book by the looks of it, with a heavy metal lock. She looked greatly relieved to see Kite and Blackrose and hurried them over to the bar.

"Did you know that man?" she asked sharply, and Kite noted how her hands were shaking badly.

"Never seen him before, why?" Alicia looked around, but the other patrons were pulling up their conversations about the mundane. Remembering what Alicia said about inspectors normally being easy, he thought it was a little odd everybody was so nervous and jumpy.

Alicia's voice was quick and edgy, as though the longer the words stayed in her mouth the more they burned her tongue. "He was asking a lot of funny questions. You know, he wanted to know every resident at the tavern, interview them and stuff. Good thing you weren't here."

"What's the book?" In response, Alicia took from the cover of the book a folded envelope of cream-colored parchment, sealed shut with the Royal Seal (an eagle with wings spread wide, perched on a crossed sword and lance) and handed it wordlessly to Kite. The name on the front, written in elaborate calligraphy, was his own, though it lacked a surname.

"Looking at your blasted name isn't going to give us any answers!" snapped Blackrose, "Open it up and read it!" Breaking the seal, he saw a very short letter written in more golden lettering.

_Dear Sir, _

_The Imperial Duke of Carmina Gadelica has been so kind as to inform us that your father, Hyrakkidouran Raikoumaru, has perished due to illness. As his son, you would normally be punished due to his crimes against the Imperial Crown, yet we do not wish to force that fate on a child. So long as you abide by the laws in the book we have given to you, you will not be prosecuted._

_Count Tokala  
Duke of Mac Anu, Ambassador of Delta_

That was unusual. Both the dukes of Lambda and Delta would jump at the chance of executing anybody, and yet they decided to spare him? It was far too suspicious to even be considered true. The look on Blackrose's face, as she read the letter over his shoulder, mirrored his doubt.

"Can I see that book?" he asked quickly and Alicia nodded, placing it upon the bar. It looked like any Wavemaster spell book, rather like Mistral's massive tome that she slept with protectively, although this one was in newer shape then Mistral's. There were runes written along the spine, spelling out 'Book of Law' and the large lock was made out of an expensive looking metal, probably a silver-gold alloy. In any case, it presented a very innocent look.

However, all thoughts of the book being completely harmless and all Kite's suspicions were dismissed and confirmed as soon as he touched the lock. There was a sizzling sound and he withdrew his hand quickly, noticing the rather nasty effect. The fingers of his gloves had been burnt completely off, the tips of his fingers similar. Blackrose moved a hand instantly to her Kikuichimonji, eyes narrowing. "That thing is cursed," she declared while Kite nursed his burnt hand.

"You mind healing this for me? It hurts like hell!" he snapped, noticing how the burns quickly blistered. She ignored him completely, focused on the book. Alicia's brow furrowed and she touched the surface of the book, slender fingers moving towards the lock. When she touched it, nothing at all happened.

"That's . . . I've touched this lock at least a thousand times and nothing happened to me." Kite sighed, knowing very well why he was the only recipient of the pain.

'Damn bracelet,' he thought with a scowl. Alicia picked up the book gingerly, holding it as though it were to explode at any second, and tucked it under the bar. When she stood back up, she was holding another envelope in her hands. "I almost forgot; another letter arrived for you. I swear, I'm just some sort of messenger service for you and Orca!"

She placed a rather poor comparison to the fancy imperial letter on the bar, written in very tidy handwriting. The yellowing parchment contained as little information as the other message, though it was more cryptic and annoying then the previous.

_Soul Drain is not the only power of your bracelet. Do you want to know more? _

_You do, don't you? The Citadel of the Corrupt Duke. I'll be waiting at this area, so come alone. _

_Love,  
_**_Mia  
_**

"Who's Mia?" asked Blackrose sharply, her eyes narrowed, and Alicia hid a sly smile. Kite scowled at the both of them.

"She's some cat-person who travels with a Deltan Wavemaster." Blackrose's eyebrows rose so high they were in danger of disappearing into her hairline. She studied the letter and the handwriting in new curiosity. "Interesting . . . is she a mainland equivalent to the Werewolves?"

"Werewolves?" Blackrose looked at him strangely and sighed.

"Never mind. Anyway, are you going to go?" There was a note in her voice that demanded him not to. After all, she would not be allowed to go and Twilight Dragon knows what sort of hell that would bring. However, he did want to know how much this Mia character knew about his bracelet and its abnormal abilities . . .

As simple as it would have been to lie, Kite sighed deeply. "I have to. If she knows anything about this bracelet . . ."

"Are you crazy?" asked Alicia sharply, nearly losing her grip on the brandy bottle for a moment, "You don't know anything about this Mia and you're going to go to the citadel? That place is haunted and cursed, don't you know the rumors?"

"'Peasants muttering will never cease to annoy me to death,'" quoted Kite and Alicia flushed darkly, her blue eyes narrowing to slits. "Oh . . . Oh fine! I swear, between you and Orca and Balmung, I'll be an old crone in a few years!" she yelled, throwing her arms up in the air and swigging down the last of the brandy. A man at a near by table chuckled darkly.

"Ya know 'licia, I wuz gonna ask fer sum o' dat," he slurred wearily, looking longingly at the empty bottle.

The market district was the perfect place for a private conversation between two people. There was always too much of a commotion to be heard properly and the topic discussed between Kite and Blackrose was something neither wanted others to hear. While Kite's eyes flickered to the many weapons vendors, looking for a set of daggers to replace his ruined set, Blackrose prattled on about how stupid he was to go to the fortress of the duke and duchess Ravenwing.

He didn't know the whole story involving the ill-fated family, but it was a favorite conversation topic of travelers who passed the ancient family fortress and he'd picked up the gist. About four or five years ago, Madame Ravenwing's young apprentice (she being a Wavemaster fond of the Dark magic and a worshiper of Wryneck, pagan god of darkness) had lost control of his magic and killed every inhabitant of the castle, summoning spirits to suck the souls from the bodies.

Their ghosts were said to haunt the building, stealing the very essence of life from all who dare to enter. The strangest thing was that the apprentice (or his body) was never found, though it was assumed it was completely destroyed from the magical energies. Blackrose, of course, had heard it as well and proclaimed the whole thing rubbish.

"Of course, if there was any truth to the whole thing, then monsters would be attracted to the magical trail left behind. You'll be lucky not to run anything with fangs as big as my sword."

"Listen, I'll be fine," he said for the umpteenth time, though it did nothing but made her eyes narrow further. "Listen, the only reason you hadn't died in these last two missions was because of Mistral and I. Don't delude yourself that a thief can deal with a place like the Ravenwing citadel."

"Oh really?" he said, rather calmly, "Listen, I'm not a toddler. I. Will. Be. Fine!" She snorted and crossed her arms over her chest. "How good are you with swords? Those pathetic daggers you use aren't going to be much help." He could have strangled her without a second thought at the moment.

"I'm horrible with a sword. I'd take off my own head before any monster."

"Lances?" she persisted, "Axes, bows? Something?" He sighed desperately again, head in his hand. "I don't need a different weapon. I have a trump card if things get desperate." He tapped his wrist knowingly and Blackrose rolled her eyes. "Like you can actually use that thing. Your magic's barely controllable, you'll have an episode like that Ravenwing kid, and your . . . weapons," she laughed again to exercise the point.

"Alright then, if I'm not back in . . . two weeks, then you can proclaim me dead and arrange my funeral, okay?" he said with black humor that made Blackrose hit him on the back of the head. "Come on; let's get you a better weapon."

"Daggers are fine!" he said in vain as she grabbed his wrist, pulling him towards the stall where she had bought her Kikuichimonji and pointing out the lances. "Even you with your weak body could use those, right?"

"Go away," he said shortly, picking up the twin scabbards of a set of blades. They were of an odd sort of style, with no hilts but a handle fastened from an indent in the blade. Made of steel, they had a very sharp edge. The weapons dealer seemed to recognize Blackrose and chuckled. "'Eh lass, you're back again. Who's your friend?"

"Mercenary I hired," she responded shortly. Kite, holding up the odd daggers, spoke to the weathered weapons dealer. "What are these blades?"

"Theatean import, a rather eccentric blacksmith lives there and forges odd-looking weapons. Their great if yer poor with magic, but they channel fire magic like nuttin' else. Called the Sotetsu set." He laid down the Sotetsu and pulled out his old dagger, fingering the hilt carefully. "Do you think you could replicate this?" The weapons dealer took it hilt first, running a fat finger along the jagged edge of the blade.

"It'd cost ya a fair amount. 'Bout . . . three thousand four hundred. Dese are Lambdanian, ain't they?" Kite nodded and the old man placed the dagger carefully to the side of his shop. "I'll keep dis fer a few weeks, an' are ya gonna buy the Sotetsu set?"

"How much?"

"Fourteen hundred gold, not a piece less." Kite dug out his money bag, wincing slightly as he counted out the money. That depleted his savings almost immediately, but it was worth it. The man gave a toothy smile and dipped his head in respect to the both of them. "Please doin' business with ya!" he yelled after them as Kite attached the scabbards to his belt.

"Why in the Six's name did you replicate that dagger?" Blackrose barked at him, "You've got like, what, six gold pieces left because of that?"

"They were my dad's," Kite responded shortly and harshly to her, "The only thing I have left of his apart from my hat."

"I wondered why you wore the stupid thing." He smiled wryly.

"Besides Blackrose, you still haven't paid me for the three weeks I've been your bodyguard. I think the total should come up to about three thousand gold pieces, shouldn't?" She flushed and narrowed her eyes. "You're the worst bodyguard I ever had. I've had to save your hide more times then you've saved mine," she mumbled.

"Quit complaining. It makes you sound immature." The pink flush in her cheeks deepened to scarlet, matching her eyes. "I left my money bag in Alicia's tavern. I'll pay you later."

'As in never,' he thought with a smile, recognizing the glint in her eyes. It was the sort of glimmer that thieves had when they claimed they were just going to 'borrow' something.

A familiar voice called out, blocking out the rest of the babble from the various shoppers, and Kite turned to see a grinning Mistral bouncing towards him. There was a golden-red tassel hanging off her staff, probably declaring her new rank and she flung her arms around his neck.

"Oh Kite! Thank you, thank you, thank you for helping me! Master Lamington'll be so proud when he gets the message!"

"Message?" asked Blackrose, "You sent your master a message?"

"Well I had to! I'm a _Cleric del mezzogiorno_ now and he'll want to know, won't he? I had to tell him about you guys to!" she squealed, tightening her grip around Kite's neck and making him gag. Blackrose's eyes widened for a moment in fear. "How much did you say about us?" she asked deadly quite and Mistral, letting go of Kite, waved a hand lazily.

"Relax; I just said I'm traveling with a talented swordswoman and a relic hunter, like me! I know not to blab and say that you guys are an islander and a thief." The latter part was spoken in a whisper so the passers-by could not hear.

Mistral's pink eyes flickered to Kite's burnt hand and widened. "What happened to you? Did you try to cast that spell again?"

"Cursed book, it's nothing," he said simply. The burns had scabbed over, healing fairly quickly with little pain, so he hadn't given them much thought. Mistral touched his hand with a few of her fingers, saying clearly, "Reapth." The skin mended instantly and he bowed his head in thanks.

"Where's this book? Who sent it?" Her tone was pretty serious now, a surprising change from her previous bubbly attitude. Blackrose crossed her arms again and her tone was clipped.

"The empire sent it, specially made for Kite." Mistral frowned, pushing back her floppy hat. "Well, not much you can do about it for now. Raise a finger in your defense and you'll be arrested for treason. It doesn't help much that your family being, well . . . Anti-imperial and all." Kite sighed but knew she was right. There wasn't a thing he could do in his defense that wouldn't lead to decapitation, or worse.

"Well then, I'm going to be gone a couple of days, and –" "Where are you going?" asked Mistral at once, "Is that why you bought new daggers?"

"Somebody named Mia wants to meet him in the Ravenwing keep," snorted Blackrose. Mistral's eyes darkened. "I heard about that. It's really sad, isn't it? Her apprentice was only ten when it happened. All that power, it could have turned out a lot better." She sighed deeply but turned to Kite. "Be careful, okay? Bring me back something good!"

Blackrose gawked at Mistral, as if she expected her to go off on a sort of parental rant about how dangerous it was. Kite smiled wryly at the swordswoman who marched off in a fury, headed towards the Dark Flame's general direction.

"Anyway, I'm going to leave tomorrow morning. If I'm not back in two weeks, I'm either dead or injured."

"That's not funny Kite! But I'm sure you'll be fine, after all, with your Soul Drain thingy, nothing could kill you! Besides, it might be a good plan for you to practice your magic. I mean, you managed the OrVak Rom spell without anybody telling you how, right?" she added as an afterthought. He nodded and Mistral continued.

"I've heard about people like that. Certain travelers who spent their entire lives studying and failing to cast magic finally did it when they were out in the open. You're probably like that. Also!" she said with an excited shudder, "Maybe you can only do advanced magic! You know, simple spells won't work with your internal reserves or something like that!" She rambled on and on, making him sound more and more like a riddle she couldn't solve. Kite sighed deeply, wondering how he got these people for traveling companions.

Piros was similar to Mistral in attitude, simply wishing him luck and a good, safe travel. Blackrose had not spoken to him since she'd stormed off and glared at him while she ate dinner, picking at the plate of chicken and potatoes while eating very little. Kite spent most of the time reading over Helba's letter, trying to see what sort of motives she'd had to send him something.

The wording gave little hint to what the cryptic woman wanted and he spent no time worrying about it. After all, if his father could trust Helba, then so could he. She couldn't be all that bad, could she?

He folded the letter and placed it off to the side, finally starting on his cold dinner. Mistral was talking loudly with Piros at the table next to him, while Alicia spoke a clipped conversation with Blackrose at the bar. The islander gave him a very venomous and pointed glare that told him she was not at all pleased with his choice.

* * *

Dawn's first rays entered his room, which remained practically untouched since the previous day. He'd spent most of the night trying to activate the bracelet upon command, but nothing worked, no matter how hard he focused. The most he had managed was a sort of light effect, though it could have simply been his tired mind playing tricks. Kite tugged at the collar of the cloak he had pulled over his usual attire, walking from the room and downstairs. Alicia was up, as was Blackrose, both talking casually. The islander still refused to look at him, though Alicia wished him luck.

"Please be careful, okay?" she said soothingly, her face pink from the cold outside. Judging from her windblown hair, she'd been outside quite a bit earlier.

"You all act like I'm a little kid who can't defend himself." Blackrose snorted in humorless laughter. "Why fake the truth? Don't worry; we'll arrange your funeral for you."

"I'll miss you to," he said sarcastically, leaving the tavern.

It was indeed freezing outside, frost on all of the shop windows and an icy bite to the wind. Unusual since it was still early autumn, but never the less he had to keep a hand on his hat to stop it from blowing away. The stables at the edge of town were chilly as well, though heated by a fire that did not burn or exclude smoke, lit in the stone fireplace. Snowfall was asleep, his pen between Woodfall and Piros's black mare, Artemis, though he woke up the instant Kite touched his muzzle.

"C'mon then, the sooner I get back the sooner Blackrose will stop trying to burn my head off," grumbled the thief, leading Snowfall out of the large stone building and climbing on. On Mac Anu's horizon was a small dot which, in reality, was the large castle-like structure that was the Ravenwing Citadel, presenting an ominous picture. They had passed it on their way to the Sea of Sand and the very building, down to the marble devil perched over the mahogany doors, presented an aura of evil. Digging his heels into Snowfall's flanks, they were off.

He rubbed his shadowed eyes and looked out at the frost-flecked fields surrounding Mac Anu. The Aqua Field was among them, though Kite made sure that he stayed well away from the underground dungeon. It looked innocent enough from a distance, the limestone stairwell leading down into the blackness presenting no dark picture of the monster that had dwelt within.

He soon found that Mistral was correct in that conversation passed time much quicker then silence. With the only other speakers being the air and his mount, Kite's thoughts quickly drifted elsewhere. More importantly, on Mia and her Wavemaster companion. What did she know about his new abilities, and how did she know?

He doubted very much that she was an aid of the empire's. King Ito had an intense dislike for things out of the ordinary, wanting to smooth out every inhabitant of his empire into a carbon copy of himself, making Mia about as welcome as dry rot in his perfect world. It was also how the human slave-trade had become so popular, since humans did not fit the king's description as a utopian citizen.

Kite eyed his shadow again. He honestly didn't know humans could stand it; the stupid thing made him feel like a dark figure was always following him. He was extremely lucky that nobody had made a fuss about it yet; he couldn't imagine the annoyingness of all the dark glares. He knew he didn't look like any human on the continent, so the obvious answer would be a half-sprite, which was worse then a human any day. It was considered a sin for any human and sprite to mate, and while the parents were burned in a temple, the child was forced to take its own life. (In the event the child was too young to do it itself, the mother had to kill it and then burn herself.)

He shook his head to clear it of such pessimistic and nauseatingly horrible thoughts, trying to focus on something else. Sadly, the only thing his mind came up with was Balmung's words in the cathedral.

_There is for me._

Did that mean that he had personal problems involved with the plague-spreading Wavemasters, or was it just the sense of justice that came with the position of a hero? In any case, Kite had a pretty shrewd suspicion to how the empire knew where to send the book and letter.

Three days later, he arrived at the Ravenwing keep. A massive structure, it had been in Delta since the time of the mainland pagans, thick columns supporting an arch over the front stoop. The main building was enclosed inside four walls made of imported stone, to protect against monster attacks. However, the steel gate leading inward was rusty and weak from age, easy to break through. On either side of the gate lay the bodies of imperial soldiers, both who had their throats slit and armor melted onto their skin by intense heat. Averting his gaze from this cruel spectacle, Kite climbed off Snowfall and pushed the gate effortlessly open.

The outside of the building was full of a gothic beauty, at least seven stories tall with curtains at every window. Much of the walls had been eaten away by magical pulse, decay that should have not been there present. Each and every detail was upon the stone figures visible on the roof, down to the veins in the wings of the devil over the door, though age and weather had dulled them severely. The statue (made of marble both white and black) was that of a man Balmung's opposite in every respect. Bat wings were spread wide, fixed to the shoulder blades, and long strands of hair surrounded the lean body. Kite did not spend much time looking at the devil, since its ruby eyes seemed to watch him at every move.

Tied by the door were two horses, both black stallions with blood red manes. They glared furiously at Kite and his mount as he tied Snowfall's reigns to one of the spokes of the iron gate between the column and the wall. With that done, the thief entered the citadel through the run down and mold-encrusted doors.

The inside showed more of the lost wealth of the Ravenwing family. Furniture, imported from the far reaches of the world, now sat covered in dust, tarnished silver idols adoring the walls and dusty, moth-eaten paintings hung behind velvet curtains. Suits of rusted armor lined the hall, standing proudly even though they had nothing to guard.

There were also the traces of the magical catastrophe that had decimated the place, since soot and ash were upon the wooden floor that was too deep a shade of black to be completely normal.

As soon as he entered the main hall (including two spiraling staircases leading up over a large statue of the same devil-creature) a smooth female voice spoke out, echoing loudly in the hall. There was no speaker to be seen, though he knew at once who it was.

"Hello. I've been waiting for you. Actually I'm also interested in the bracelet. I'm at the attic of the citadel. You can make it here, can't you?"

Looking around in all directions for Mia, Kite gripped one of the Sotetsu daggers tightly and replied (knowing he sounded very foolish, talking to thin air). "How do you know about Soul Drain?" He could almost imagine Mia's cat-like smile, her eyes glittering in semi-light and the silver-haired Wavemaster behind her. He shook his head. Where had the sudden vision come from?

"Well . . . that's hard to say." Again, he saw the image of the feline-sprite smirking at him with cruel amusement in her yellow eyes. She responded to none of his further questioning.

Scowling and feeling like he wanted to kick something, Kite had barely gone a few more steps before one of the suits of armor clanged loudly of its own accord. The sword and shield in its hand (as well as the dagger on its belt) had lifted from their positions and formed a crude sort of warrior. The sword-creature – a Dust Curse – charged at him to be met with the crash of metal from the Sotetsu set. It was a fruitless battle, since whatever move he made the Dust Curse would simply copy.

Remembering the events of the Stone Halls, he tried to move his hands in the position for the fire tornado without getting hacked by the Dust Curse. This proved to be easier said then done, since the demonic blade would not give him a moment's rest. Finally he managed to yell out "Vak Rom!" and produce the same fire spell Blackrose used. The metal of the blades and shield turned red hot and melted into goo upon the floor, creating a hole to the cellars below and bringing the smell of decay up to his nose. He hurried up the stairs, slipping a little on the dust and twice his foot fell through the weakened wood.

Everywhere he went, Kite saw the same portraits of the Ravenwing family. The late Madame and Duke were prominent. Both had been tall, gaunt and dark haired, though good-looking in their own ways. Upon the pale face of Madame Persephone was a black rose just below her right eye, blood red vines adorned with sharp vines creeping across her face and around her neck, while Thantos Ravenwing sported a semi-circle over his left eye in a shade of purple-black. There also seemed to be another figure in front of the couple, a smaller one, though Kite could not make out any distinctions from all the age clouding the paintings.

More after-effects of the magic were there in the hallways, ranging from the skeletal remains of human servants to entire walls that had been reduced to ash. The whole building seemed to watch his every move, or was it merely the monsters that inhabited it?

For it seemed some of the gargoyles had absorbed the magic and come to life, lurking in the rooms. The vast library on the second floor (with books that caught his attention as high sellers) was populated by three stone goblins and another one of the devil statues, all of whom had come to life. The marble bodies clanked against the floor, making dents in the carpeting and wood, the devil pulling back cold lips to reveal a gaping hole and the goblins flexing their stiff fingers. It carried a lance fashioned from a broom and kitchen knife.

"Vak Rom!" he yelled, managing to create an even weaker form of the tornado. It didn't even harm them, neither did physical attacks. The most he managed to do was severely injury his right foot after trying to kick the goblin. Focusing his brain on the movements for Mistral's lightning attacks, Kite raised his hands and cried "Rai Rom!" This had the desired effect, since it seemed all the creatures were brought to life out of dark magic. The goblins exploded in an instant, the devil crippled by the loss of its right arm. Flinging the make-shift spear at Kite, the devil limped forward and raised its crude weapon.

"Saber Dance!" yelled Kite, swinging both the daggers across the stone chest of the devil, which began to crack. One kick ruined the entire thing, its severed head rolling across the floor bloodlessly.

Mia's voice came again in the room, sounding amused to no end. He looked frantically around for her, all the while listening to her. "So, what do you think? Do you think the fortress is really cursed?"

He did not answer and Mia continued, the words having no connection to her previous statement. "The truth is, for something to be born, something must break. The same applies to sprites and humans. Do you understand what I mean?"

"No!" Kite replied, still looking around for her. She didn't answer and he knew it was no good. Instead, he turned to the many shelves of the library and ran a thumb along a dusty spine to see the title. Ravenwing Genealogy, Ways of the Dark One, Madame Persephone's diary . . . The last one he picked up out of interest, just curious to see if it listed the apprentice who had destroyed everything here.

_**

* * *

Monday, Night, 26 summers since Birth.**_

_Thantos returned today accompanied by a small child I did not know. The Duke of Mac Anu had met with my husband today and said that I was to mentor a young Wavemaster. The poor child looked like he had just recently discovered his talents and wanted his parents back, and who was I to blame him? I knew not my mother or father, but I could relate to the boy. He has very strong ties with magic I soon found out, darkness being prominent. I thank Wryneck for the chance to raise such a talented mage.

* * *

_

_**Tuesday, Night, 26 summers since Birth. **_

_My apprentice does not speak, I soon found out. He wills his magic out of him in a very interesting manner. When he gets hurt, a spell will appear to utterly annihilate what hurt him. Some of my husband's precious yet unbalanced statues are now gone, not that I'm complaining. He has a strong affinity towards cats, particularly towards my Jinx. He interests me greatly, though I still do not know his name. He will not tell me what it is. Some of the servant's children were calling him 'Elk' after Thantos's outrageous stuffed moose fell on top of him. I think he likes the name.

* * *

_

It went on like that, Kite idly skimming through some of the further pages. It seemed the Duke Ravenwing did not prefer his surrogate son, being too weak to hold a sword properly, and that caused several rows between the couple. The last entry (dated five years after Elk's arrival) depicted this and how Thantos had nearly tried to poison the child's meals. He winced and put away the book, withdrawing a dagger and leaving the library.

The upper stories brought weaker flooring, the wooden boards sagging under his weight. He was glad that most of the monsters were on the stories below and wondering how Mia and her companion had gotten to the attic without falling through the floor.

Kite's eyes edgily looked into the corners and up the staircases, spotting more signs of the magic that had destroyed the building's population. There were scorch marks on the walls, skeletal remains spread on the floor (he'd had the pleasure to crush the knuckle bones of a maid by accident) and one lucky man who had the pleasure of being semi-fused with the wall, his face frozen in a horrified scream forever.

"You came here to learn the secret of the bracelet," said Mia's voice soothingly, making him jump and his foot fell through a particularly weak part of the floor, "But you don't quite trust me."

"For good reason," he muttered darkly, and was then presented with the image of Mia laughing. How was she breaking into his mind like that? Was it a skill of whatever people she came from, or was her Wavemaster companion doing it?

"The world does not consist of only 1s and 0s," continued Mia, making as little sense as ever, "It allows the existence of areas between Yes and No. Sprites are interesting, aren't they?" Again she fell silent, leaving him to drag his foot out of the wood. Several splinters had dug into his skin, making him wince when he put too much pressure on it. Luckily he was near the top, judging by the scenery outside the windows.

He pushed open a door, which crumpled like dust against his fingers, revealing a drawing room that was clearly where the magical catastrophe had begun. The walls were black, a large portion of them gone and autumn wind blowing fiercely in and out. The bay windows had been shattered, shards of stained and clear glass littering the floor. Two skeletons were on the floor, a man and a woman, which were probably the duke and duchess. Large burn marks scarred the floor, as were a few words that looked recently written in the debris on the floor.

"'Rest in peace, mother'," he read aloud, looking as the duchess. The thin rags that were once her black dress still clung to the bones, jewelry similar. He left the room quickly, though after slipping a golden ring from the duke's finger and a necklace from the duchess into his pockets. If nothing else, he could use them to woo Bell out of the Crimson Deaths. She liked jewelry a lot, and these two pieces could possible persuade her.

The staircase leading to the attic was worse then the others, many of the floor boards missing. He had to lean against the rail to keep his balance, and even then the spiral stairs shook unpleasantly. The wood of the attic was in the best shape out of the other rooms, and it was surprisingly empty, even though Mia had promised she would be in the attic.

That is, he thought it was empty until he caught sight of the Wrym nest. The massive mother, thick red skin covering the insect-like body, was looking over the destroyed eggs of her offspring before turning her ugly head towards him. Her single eye was livid and he knew that Mia had killed the eggs and left him to deal with the furious, fire-breathing Red Wrym.

"Now, show me the power," said Mia's voice, which sounded slightly hysterical, "Of the one who holds the bracelet!" To be honest, he was expecting a maniacal laugh after the words. Swallowing hard, he positioned his hands for his thunder spell.

"Rai Rom!" he shouted, knowing that his fire spell would have little to no effect this time. The lightning bolts bounced harmlessly off the tough skin as she advanced towards him. The long and ivory claws atop her wings were painfully obvious as she swooped towards him, opening her mouth and revealing rows of sharp, pointed teeth. Her thick tail came whipping up to meet him, catching his arm hard. He winced slightly but the Sotetsu were in his hands already and he dug one into the tip of her tail. It didn't go deep and she managed to shake it off easily.

Hurrying over to grab his weapon, he saw her open her mouth with a ball of flames glowing at the back of her throat. She exhaled deeply and the flames licked the end of his cloak and the floor. He wished he knew some sort of water spell, since that would surely help kill the thing. The Wyrm let out a painfully loud screech and swished her tail around, catching him in the stomach and flinging him backwards. It felt like a rib was broken, but the pain vanished somewhat as he said "Reapth."

Focusing his mind as he always did to use magic, he pushed the force from his body and into one of the daggers. Lightning crackled along the metal of the blade and he flung it towards the Wyrm, where it sent at least a hundred volts through the body. Nothing seemed to harm the thing, no blood dripped down the chest though the dagger had gone into the softer flesh of the underbelly.

"Damn it!" he cursed, realizing that she must be infected like the Headhunter in Yarthkin's Tomb. The Wyrm set another blast of flames towards him as he summoned more lightning. "OrRai Rom!" The lightning came in greater numbers this time, but it left him feeling lightheaded. Too much magic, he thought as he shook his head. He couldn't be feeling lightheaded now.

Kite felt the heated breath of the Read Wyrm as she came closer, spinning on her side so her claw came within inches of his face. The dagger in his hand managed to scratch her wing, but it was a light cut and healed instantly from the virus in her body. She turned swiftly up and exhaled more flames, catching his foot this time. Yelling in pain, he gasped out the healing spell as the skin beneath his boot quickly blistered. His wrist tingled slightly, but he ignored it as he retrieved the second Sotetsu dagger.

"Rai Rom!" Nothing.

"Saber Dance!" Nothing.

He cursed loudly again as he avoided her flaming breath. Her tail caught his right ankle, curling like a whip around it and dragged him upward. Slashing as fast as he could at the leathery skin, he could not avoid how she flung his body like a rag doll against the wall. Dazed and blinking back white dots, Kite's wrist tingled again. The bracelet was doing something at least, though it was nothing useful.

His mind whorled as he fought back unconsciousness, the back of his head pounding where he'd hit the wall. The Wrym flung her tail in the opposite direct, letting go of him, and he landed in a crumpled heap on the ground, head feeling like it was about to split open. He stood wearily and took a loose grip on the Sotetsu and missed the still wyrm, who was surveying him interestingly. It was though she were waiting for him to collapse on his own.

Kite could barely focus on the Red Wyrm, despite its massive size. His wrist felt painful as he shook his head to clear it, yelling a little too loud, "Rai Rom!" There was nothing that happened; his magic had stopped working so soon. He vaguely realized his body was moving of its own will, not his own, and heard his own voice yell, "OrRue Rom!" There was a horrid screech from the Wyrm and felt its tail smack the side of his face. It bit deep into his cheek, blood dripping down his neck and onto his chest.

His vision came back sharply and painfully as the bracelet activated itself, appearing brightly. His mind was too numbed to fight back and since he did not, the pain failed to come. The Wyrm was screeching in pain as its soul was drained into his hand, and judging by the feel it was another marble-shaped item – a Soul Core as described by Helba in her letter – and it too was inscribed with an M. The wyrm's now-lifeless carcass hit the floor and with a loud crash fell through it to the lower floor.

"R-reapth," he chocked, some of the blood from the cut on his cheek going into his mouth. Apparently drained of all magical reserves, the spell had no effect, but another voice sounded; male with a Deltan accent, "La Reapth."

The pain dulled in the back of his mind and the cut on his cheek healed, his vision repairing similarly. Turning, Kite found himself looking at Mia and her Wavemaster companion. The feline-sprite was looking very interested, her companion curiously puzzled. "So that is the Soul Drain," mused Mia, "I've never seen it before . . ."

Anger flared inside his chest and Kite's jaw dropped in horror. "What? What do you mean by that?" He had come to the castle to find information and nearly died fighting that Red Wyrm, and here she was saying that she'd never seen (and probably knew nothing) about his bracelet. Mia looked a little shocked, her companion angry and she said, sounding hurt, "Are you angry?"

"Yes! You said you would tell me more about this bracelet and its power!"

Mia shrugged carelessly, arms crossed over her chest and eyes glimmering in the darkness eeriely. "I just wanted to know the extent of your power. If you were too weak, there would be no point in teaching you how to destroy the barriers."

Confusion and curiosity replaced his anger. "Destroy barriers?" he asked, confused. Mia nodded and waved her hand lazily in the air in front of her, her tone strangely lecture-like and bossy. "You just drained a monster's soul core. That talent comes in handy if you know what you're doing. Soul cores are the key to breaking through protective barriers Of course, soul cores are useless to those who don't have the bracelet. I'll show you how to destroy the barriers. Come with us to the twin hills. I enjoyed watching the Soul Drain."

Her companion walked forward and cleared his throat, speaking in the melancholic voice. "I don't believe we've actually introduced ourselves properly. This is Mia, and I am Elk." Kite's eyes widened for a moment, his brain automatically registering Elk as the Ravenwing apprentice, but he didn't want to be rude and possibly bring up bad memories, or insult the boy if it was the wrong person.

"Kite Raikomaru," he replied, "Nice to meet you." Elk looked surprised for a moment, taking a firmer grip on his staff before Mia spoke. "The heir of the Crimson Deaths, very interesting. Not many would give such an important fact away. What if we were the imperial guard?"

"I didn't think anybody would really know about them out here in Delta. Their not very popular outside of Lambda," Kite replied honestly. A small piece of him wondered whither or not Mia and Elk were with the empire, but his question was quickly answered. Elk gave a small smile.

"Don't worry, we're outlaws to. Mia doesn't fit in with the guidelines of his Majesty's perfect race, and I'm wanted for murder." Something flickered in his crimson eyes as he looked up at the slopping ceiling of the attic. "I was the magician that killed everybody here." The words sounded like he had forced them out, as did his smile afterwards. Mia gave him a small look that clearly stated to get off the topic.

"So will you come with us to the twin hills? I swear on my honor that we will not hurt you." Wondering how Blackrose would kill him when he returned to Mac Anu, Kite nodded. It was high time this bracelet unraveled its mystery.

* * *

I do not own .hack, Bandai does. I own the gist of this story.

Please review.


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